


Close as Strangers

by liltwinflow



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-01-31 11:43:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18590578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liltwinflow/pseuds/liltwinflow
Summary: "And what Kuroo? There are only so many times a person's heart can break before they're scared to love again."___For Kenma, Uni was supposed to be his road to independence and chance for him to delve deeper into what he loved.For Kuroo, Uni was just another couple of years of being young and having fun with the perk of learning as he went along.Kenma thought he had cleared the game when he finally managed to move on, little did he know this was only the beginning of the final boss fight.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Ezgi <3
> 
> \- Please don't think too much into the dorm layouts it is just for the sake of making the story easier!  
> \- There might still be minor grammatical mistakes and the sort, I'm sorry in advance.   
> \- This is my first Kuroken fic so again I'm sorry if characterisation isn't the best. 
> 
> Thank you to those who read over these chapters for me and encouraged me to post/ write more <3

 

Hot.

Stuffy.

As one would expect of a train, Kenma thought. It was loud - the blurred noise of passengers talking to one another. The words being said sounded more like a constant sound ringing in his ears than chatter. It was too loud.

He probably should have chosen a different day to move in, a day where less people would be on the train and he could play his game in peace. Right now, Kenma wouldn’t dare budge and free his PSP from his bag, not when his arms were being squashed to his side by the strangers sitting beside him.

Uncomfortable. If there was one word Kenma could think of to describe how he felt right now it would be uncomfortable. There were too many people, too many faces with unreadable expressions that made his head hurt and put his body on edge. What were they thinking? Was he blending in enough?

It was too hot. Too stuffy.

Even if Kenma were to bring out his PSP it would most likely slide from his hands that have become clammy from the heat of the train. He yearned for the solidness of the console to ground him. _How many stops were left?_

There was a buzzing, it sent a jolt through him before he heard the generic ringtone of a phone. It pierced through the white noise that was beginning to form in his ears and reminded him to _breathe_ . He looked down, his mind finally comprehending that it was _his_ phone that was ringing and fumbled to take it out his pocket.

People were staring. Kenma ducked down behind his hair and answered faintly.

_“Kenma, are you there yet?”_

Relief filled him at the voice.

But he was still on the train and he was still hyperaware of the fact people could be listening. He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip and stared at his bag. “No,” He mumbled, gripping his phone tightly – he could already feel it slipping. 

_“How long will you be? Are you sure you don’t want us to come and help you?”_

Kenma looked up, tilting his head to see between the bodies blocking the windows. “Not long.” He answered, squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling of someone treading on his foot.

Never again, he decided, barely holding back a scowl. Never again will he take a train over the weekend.

“I’m fine.” He added, a few seconds later, “You’re busy anyway.”

He could picture the frown on his mother’s face at his reply, but it was the truth. Kenma already thanked them for bringing his stuff down in advance, this at least he could do himself. University was the road to independence after all.

_“Make sure to tell me when you’re there, don’t forget your parents now that you’re at University.”_

His lips twitched with the intention to smile at her words, he held it back folding more into himself as someone else took the empty seat beside him. “I won’t.” He murmured. “Next break.”

 _“Next break."_ She agreed. _“I’ll see you then.”_

He hummed a reply, knowing that it was a good enough indication to end the call, they were never ones for saying goodbye.

 

Kenma had never been so happy to be outside until he stepped off the train, bags clutched tightly to his body as he weaved his way through the crowd. It was cooler, easier to breathe. The fog in his head had slowly begun to disperse. Challenge One: Mission One, had been completed.

Now he had to _find_ the campus, better yet the University. Oh, Kenma thought. That would be the next Mission.

His feet came to a stop, as out of the way as he could be. It didn’t seem to stop others from knocking into him and grumbling bitter remarks his way. He wasn’t sure if he was beginning to rethink this University thing or starting to hate Trains and stations.

He sighed, adjusted his bags then drew his phone out of his pocket. If he could get away from here to some place quieter, he could find his way to the campus he would soon call his home.

So, after a few minutes of waiting for most passengers to leave, Kenma continued his walk – rattling his brain for any hints or signs that he was heading in the right direction.

 

It felt as though he had been walking around aimlessly for hours, though Kenma knew full well that it had been at least 20 minutes. He almost wished he took his parents up on the offer to drop him off, as he came to a stop once more.

Wherever he was, there seemed to be more people who looked like students around. Relief filled him for the second time that day, and he silently hoped he was either on campus or closer to his destination - but the thought of possibly having to wonder around for another 20 minutes had the tempting words ‘GIVE UP’ floating in front of him.

 

“Yaho! Pudding-head!”

 

Kenma looked up at the cheerful call ahead, eyes skimming around until he caught sight of someone waving one hand in the air with the other cupping their mouth to project their voice. They were walking towards him, hands falling to their hips once they were sure they had Kenma’s attention.

He stilled.

“Are you new here?” They asked, with a smile that Kenma guessed was supposed to be friendly, though he couldn’t help but feel like some sort of target - especially with a group of girls watching intently some distance away. “You look a little frazzled” They added.

Kenma nodded, noting how much taller the stranger was than him. He realised that his nod probably didn’t answer their question but to look up would mean eye contact, and that was something Kenma couldn’t hold for long.

All he wanted was to get inside and sleep believe it or not (unpacking could come later).

“Heading to the campus? I’ll show you the way~” Kenma glanced up in time to see them remove their glasses.

“I would appreciate that.” He murmured, hoping it would be loud enough for them to catch it. “Thank you.”

Their grin widened and their arm raised as though they were going to wrap it around his shoulders, Kenma inched away before they could.

“Then let’s go~ The sooner the better, right?”

They were still cheery, Kenma noted. Not at all offended. He nodded once more.

 

Soon enough Kenma reached familiarity, recognising where he was from the induction day a while ago. He peered up at the stranger, who hadn’t said anything since they started walking, and slowly came to a stop. “Um.”

They turned around with a smile (that Kenma is now sure never leaves their face). “Remember where to go now?” They asked. It would be rude to simply nod again, Kenma thought, so he opted for speaking up instead.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“Of course!” They replied, before their eyes snapped down to their pocket. Kenma watched as they briefly checked their phone before looking up once again: “Then I’ll see you around, Pudding-head! Good luck.” And with that, they waved and headed back in the direction they came.

Kenma shook his head lightly, deciding not to ponder the nickname.

_~_~_

 

 

**From Bokuto:**

_ >> AKAAAAASHI _

**From Bokuto:**

_ >> Akaaashi?? _

 

“Akaaaashi!!”

 

He heard it before he felt it, the loud boisterous call of his name before strong arms were lifting him slightly off the ground in an excited greeting. Whether the leap in his heart was caused by the shock of the embrace or the person giving it would remain unknown but Akaashi Keiji found he didn't mind. Instead, a small amused smile spread across his face as he was finally allowed to turn to face his best friend: Bokuto Koutarou. Bokuto Koutarou who had his hair down for once in his life publicly.

“Bokuto-san” said Akaashi, clearing his throat quietly. He needed some sort of warning before getting to witness such a sight, his heart still hadn't recovered from that greeting.

“Akaashi! I missed you!! Why did you take so long to answer my messages? I thought you died or something!”

Akaashi blinked, noticing the looks from people passing by, Bokuto was known for his loudness - they would get used to it. Though something Akaashi wouldn’t get used to was how easily Bokuto could say he missed him.

He hummed, despite his insides screaming at him to listen to what they were trying to say, and kept his expression composed. “It’s only been three days.” He said, reminding his friend of their last meeting. “Are you saying that you would spam my phone with messages instead of coming to find me? Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto visibly deflated, a prominent pout puffing his lips. “Akaaaaashi!” He whined, in both embarrassment and slight guilt. Akaashi knew, however, that the man probably didn’t think he died. There had been other instances in which the same thing has happened, this was nothing new.

Akaashi chuckled lightly, adjusting his bag slung across his shoulder. “I forgot my phone in my bag before my shift, sorry.”

Bokuto sprung to life once again, “It's okay. I just get worried when you don't answer my messages.” He admitted, raising a hand to scratch his cheek gently. Akaashi pretended not to see the pinkness which dusted over his cheeks.

“It's true that I do answer your messages once you send them.” Said Akaashi, as they begun to walk. Bokuto had invited him to lunch to make up for lack of interaction between them the past three days, not that it was a problem anyway – Akaashi would say. Still, Bokuto seemed insistent for it to happen and no matter how you look at it Akaashi missed him too.

“Thank you for trying _not_ to message me when I'm in a lecture.” He added somewhat teasingly. Akaashi couldn't help but smile at the way he brightened at that. 

“Mannnn, I can’t believe you’re working _and_ have an apartment already! You’re making me look like a bad adult.” Bokuto commented after a short while, raising his arms in the air before letting them fall to emphasise his ‘despair’.

Akaashi spared him a glance as he looked for the ice cream shop they had decided on prior. “You’re busy with practice and classes, Bokuto-san. My course also doesn’t permit me to stay in the dorms like yours does.”

Bokuto let out a strung out humming sound as though he was reluctantly agreeing to his words.

They walked in silence the rest of the way, hands brushing against one another’s every once in a while. Neither of them drew back or reacted in any way, it was bound to happen with Bokuto swinging his hands so energetically by his sides.

They made themselves comfortable once they arrived, taking a seat nearer the back of the store. It took a few minutes more for Bokuto to decide on an order, peering over to see what Akaashi was looking at when his brain came to a dead end. Bokuto’s concentration face was both amusing and cute, Akaashi thought. The way his tongue would peek out from the corner of his lips and his brows jutted downwards to match his intense stare, Akaashi didn’t know whether to laugh or smile. (So he hid his gaze behind the menu instead).

“So what was the emergency?” Akaashi asked a short while after they had received their orders, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor waitress who had to stand and wait the whole time Bokuto kept changing his mind.

The said man, Bokuto, looked up at the question spoon mid way in his mouth. “Nmm?”

“The reason you spammed my phone before concluding I died.” He reminded, seeing the realisation flood through his eyes.

“Oh! That.” Bokuto thought aloud, “I was bored and everyone abandoned me after practice.” He continued. “Rude, right?”

Akaashi hummed in reply. It was nice, how Bokuto had continued to play volleyball even in University. It was only natural his passion for it wouldn’t fade yet, not when he still had so much fight left in him.

He wonders if he’s still playing as seriously as they did in high school, they were strong back then. Even though it was effectively the whole team looking after him, he still managed to live up to his title of captain and that was something Akaashi admired about the man. How he could be so uplifting without thinking much into it, how even though he had his many weaknesses he was the strongest of them all.

Bokuto was, and always will be, a star in his eyes and although he may not be playing anymore Akaashi hoped the world would continue to be on his side a little longer.

 

At a slightly louder whiny complaint, Akaashi blinked, looking over at his friend sat opposite him. There was ice cream on the side of his face and another pout on his lips, Akaashi refused to give in to the strange feeling of his heart at the sight.

“Bokuto-san.” He interrupted, handing him a napkin. “You have ice cream on your cheek.”

“Oh, thanks!” Bokuto took the napkin without so much of a sheepish expression, and wiped his cheek (exaggeratedly) clean.

Akaashi nodded in reply. He wouldn’t pretend he knew what the man was talking about before, sometimes it’s better to let Bokuto talk at you rather to you, but whatever it was he’s seemed to have finished Akaashi concluded.

“How has your course been going?” he asked, once Bokuto had finished his dessert.

“It _was_ going great.” said Bokuto, after a few seconds. Akaashi waited patiently before prompting him to continue.

“But?”

“We’ve got this mini exam coming up soon and now Math is included out of nowhere! Why do we even need Math? I’ll be screwed if it comes up in the real exam.” Once again, Bokuto visibly deflated slouching forward in his seat. “Do you reckon it’s out of spite? Did I use that right?”

A laugh escaped Akaashi, quiet and half suppressed. “I doubt it’s out of spite, Bokuto-san, but if you need help studying I can help you. If you want that is.”

By now he should be used to how quickly Bokuto springs back up again, Akaashi thought, although he didn’t outwardly react he found he was still taken back by the speed in which Bokuto sat back up again.

“Akaashi! You’re the best! You would really help me study?” There was such glee in his eyes, if Akaashi hadn’t trained himself not to get as affected by it he would have forgotten how to breathe.

He nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. “Just text me when you’re next free and where.”

 

_~_~_

 

If he hadn’t just spent most of the day trying to get here; Kenma would have turned around, pretended none of this was happening and went home. He would have ignored the way the beat of his heart kicked up a notch and willed his body to move.

But Kenma _had_ spent most of the day travelling to get here, he _couldn’t_ pretend none of this was happening or ignore the pounding of his heart so prominently against his rib cage.

Even though the voice was deeper, louder and no longer timid, a strong sense of familiarity shot through him so powerfully that he _had_ to look up to see if it were true.

It was only an utter of his name, so full of disbelief, but his eyes were wide and as was theirs.

Kenma couldn’t find it; the ability to speak, move or even look away from the figure who had emerged from the walk way as he opened the door.

Challenge two: Mission two completed, he thought, but it was game over for now.

 

“Long time no see.”


	2. Chapter 2

The gym echoed with the squeaks of sneakers across the floor, balls bouncing against the hard surface only adding to the noise. Above that, there were calls for tosses, praises for good work and chatter between other people that Kuroo easily drowned out. It blurred together and simply formed one constant sound, even then Kuroo couldn’t hear it over his thoughts.

They were practicing, as usual, Kuroo had done this so often that his mind didn’t have to be apart of the action. His feet lead its own way, his arms moved on reflex, and though he was looking at where the ball went it the signals never made it to his occupied brain.

At least until a shooting pain spread across his forehead, knocking him to the ground upon impact. He groaned; eyes squeezed shut as his hand reached up to sooth the pain. It took a few seconds for Kuroo to register the laughs in front of him, and a few seconds more for him to finally open his eyes to be met with his all-so-nice friends (who don’t even offer a hand to help him up). He scowled.

“My, my, that was quite a receive.” Oikawa giggled behind his hand. Kuroo knew he wasn’t trying to hide the fact he was laughing. Much like a certain loud owl head beside him howling with laughter, really it can’t have been that funny.

“I haven’t seen someone take a spike to the face in too long!” chortled Bokuto, an arm wrapped around his stomach whilst the other wiped his eyes.

Kuroo narrowed his glare towards his louder friend, fingers inching towards the ball which had smacked him down: “Would you like me to show you first-hand?”

Oikawa ignored the two in favour of crouching in front of the man, “But Tetsu-chan” he started. “You’ve been acting strange since last night, well, stranger than normal.” _What’s wrong?_

Kuroo sighed, letting his hand fall from his face to the ground behind him.  The question was clear, despite not being asked out loud. There was seriousness to his light, teasing tone, and for Tooru to pick it up he _must_ have been acting ‘stranger than usual’.

“Remember how I was boasting that I got my dorm to myself?”

“Yeah because you keep trying to kick me out” Bokuto interjected, a hint of a pout on his lips.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Firstly, you have your own dorm. Secondly, you don’t do anything to help.”

“I do help!”

“By eating my food and hogging my bed?”

“Precisely, that’s what friends are for! By the way you’re out of chips.”

Oikawa cleared his throat, “Anyway. Tetsu-chan’s sad because he can’t walk around naked anymore?”

“What? I’ve never done that! You just let yourself in every time I get out the shower!”

Kuroo looked to his left at a pat to his shoulder, “Don’t worry bro” said Bokuto somewhat reassuringly. “I’m sure if you warn your new roommate you can continue walking around naked.”

Kuroo pushed his hand away, scowling at the two of them once more. “I’m going to invest in new friends.”

Oikawa hummed, settling himself into a more comfortable position on the floor. “As if you can find anyone greater than me.” He cocked his head ever so slightly, “So what’s the problem?”

At the gaze he sent him, Kuroo almost froze. _Intense,_ he thought. It felt as though in one simple glance Tooru had figured him out despite the question. He looked away from sharp eyes and faced the floor instead.

“The fact that I no longer live alone isn’t the problem, it’s just…the person who has moved in.” Kuroo stated vaguely. Neither Bokuto nor Oikawa spoke up this time, a sign for him to continue his explanation. He sighed once again, “It’s that childhood friend I’m always on about.”

 

“I don’t get it.”

They looked over at Bokuto, eyebrows quirked as if to ask what part of that he _did not_ understand.

“I don’t get why you’re so troubled that your childhood friend moved in with you, with the way you talk about him shouldn’t you be happy?” Bokuto asked.

“I agree.” Oikawa added, “I would have thought you’d be bouncing with excitement.”

I wish that were the case, Kuroo thought to himself. He wished the way his heart leaped at the sight of him was in happiness, but the air in the room became tense. Too quickly, too overpowering. Kuroo wondered just _how much_ had changed, he wondered if the tension was born from ill feelings. The happiness he felt upon recognising his former best friend left as soon as it came, that’s what was troubling him.

“It’s just…awkward now.” Kuroo responded eventually. It was true, that it was awkward. Awkward was the easiest way to describe how their relationship had become, and as much as he hates to admit it: Kuroo knows this isn’t the first time it had felt this awkward between them.

“Well this is the guy you haven’t seen in years, right? Of course, it’s gonna be awkward! You guys just need to catch up again, you’ll be good friends again in no time!” said Bokuto, patting his shoulder with a reassuring smile.

Kuroo couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at how the man could brush it off so easily, you could always leave it to Bokuto to cheer you up in flash or to tell you not to think into it so much, because Bokuto wasn’t about thinking. Kuroo had pondered before how he managed to make it so far without thinking deeply into things before he concluded it was _because_ he didn’t think so deeply into things.

He glanced over at Oikawa; whose gaze lingered on him as though he was still trying to figure him out. There was a flash of concern before he hummed and smiled his usual bright smile, “So, when do we get to meet this famous childhood friend? I want to see what’s so good about them.”

“Yeah! I want to see who’s taking up my spot.” Said Bokuto, twirling the ball on his fingers.

“You don’t.” Kuroo answered, chuckling at their expressions. He thought back to when they kids, how shy and withdrawn they both were, then earlier that day.

“If he’s anything like what I remember, I think it’s best you don’t meet him just yet.”

Oikawa let out a long drawn out sound resembling an ‘awwww’ before pouting childishly, “You just don’t want us around your ‘precious’ friend.”

Who would? Kuroo thought with a faint smile, he was well aware of how chaotic they were as a group. _Rather not scare him away any more._

The door to the gym opened before anyone else could make any more comments, the trio turned their heads to find Yaku.

“Why aren’t you practicing? Someone inj—what the hell happened to your face Kuroo?”

At that Bokuto burst into laughter once more. “I ask him that every day.” Oikawa giggled, dodging Kuroo’s kick to push him over as he stood.

“Har har,” Kuroo replied. “Let’s just continue practice, shall we?”

 

_~_~_

 

_“Hey so…you ready to go?”_

He wanted to cringe; this wasn’t how it was supposed to be – but then again _what_ was it supposed to be? Years has passed, many years have passed. Did he expect for him to stay the same? Greet him as though they’ve been friends all along and drag him out to play?

Kenma nodded, shuffling to follow behind him.

There wasn’t much to say between the two of them yet at the same time there was so much to say. He couldn’t bring himself to look up, see the expression on his face, so his eyes remained trained on the ground beneath them.

_“Umm so I thought maybe I show you around outside the campus then show to any places you need within campus, is that okay?”_

For some reason he didn’t like the way he spoke to him, it felt too hesitant, too cautious that something might go wrong at any second. He wasn’t fragile, nor was he a child. This was his old next door neighbour, his old friend – why was their encounter more awkward than any stranger?

He couldn’t pretend he didn’t know the answer.

They walked for a short while, Kenma listened and nodded to the information he was being told. It was helpful, despite being awkward. If he wasn’t being given advice or directions, there would be a heavy silence above them regardless of the chatter around them and the general loudness of the outdoors.

_“So, you dyed your hair.”_

_“Mhmm.”_

_“It somehow suits you, why did you dye it?”_

_“Personal reasons.”_

It wasn’t a complete lie but Kenma didn’t miss the way his face fell ever so slightly; he regrets not telling him ‘thank you’ for the compliment or ‘sorry’ for the bluntness of his reply. If it wasn’t uncomfortable before then it was most certainly beyond awkward now.

His fingers clenched then unclenched in his pockets, he wanted to get away.

 _“Oh, sorry.”_ Kenma looked over _. “I forgot I had practice today, I can show you the way back and anything else another day or later…if you want?”_

 _“It’s okay.”_ He looked down. _“Thank you.”_

 

_~_~_

 

There was surprisingly quite a lot of quiet places around at this time of day, Kenma found as he entered a café. He guessed it was because it was still the weekend and most people would be at home or indoors. Whatever the reason, he was glad it wasn’t busy.

The café he chose was small and hidden behind a corner, there were the odd few people inside sipping at their drinks or eating. It was warm upon entering, the smell was inviting but what had Kenma sold was the sight of his favourite dessert up ahead.

He bit back a smile, as he walked towards the counter, already feeling the tension in his body from earlier ease in this new setting. In front of him stood a silver haired man, talking to the lady behind the counter. Kenma couldn’t tell much from his place but they both seemed young (maybe just a little older than him) and familiar with one another, laughing about whatever they were talking about before he walked in.

He looked away when the lady met his eyes, she was pretty Kenma would admit. The glance seemed to remind her to get back to work as she cleared her throat and asked the man what he wanted. Kenma didn’t pay much attention to his order, his eyes locked on the final slice of apple pie behind the glass, or at least until the man ordered _that last slice of apple pie behind the glass_.

He must have let out a sound of protest at that as the two turned to face him, Kenma ducked behind his hair.

“Oh, did you want the last slice?” asked the man. Now that Kenma had a better view of his face he could say the man was just as pretty as the lady behind the counter, something about him screamed soft and welcoming.

Kenma shifted his weight to one foot, feet fidgeting in his shoes. “It’s…” His gaze fell upon the apple pie once again. “It’s okay” He murmured reluctantly; he could get one elsewhere – hopefully.

The man chuckled softly, a smile spreading across his cheeks. “You have it. I’ll go with my usual order today then please, Shimizu.” The lady – Shimizu – nodded.  

“Are you sure?” Kenma asked, as he was handed the plate, the silver haired angel – as he has now nicknamed him – grinned.

“Of course!” He replied, Kenma couldn’t help the small smile which tugged at his lips.

“Thank you--”

“Suga!”

They both turned to face the door at the call, Kenma didn’t miss the happy glint in the silver haired an- Suga’s (he assumed) eyes at the newcomer.

“Daichi” beamed Suga as the man walked closer.

“Ah Shimizu” said the man – Daichi, with a smile and a nod. “That would explain why you took so long.”

Kenma suddenly felt like an intruder between three people who clearly knew each other well, he sucked the inside of his cheek waiting for the right time to leave and take a seat.

“Then we’ll be off, see you soon Shimizu! Tell Yachi we said hi.” Suga waved, that bright smile of his never once leaving his face. “Oh and enjoy the apple pie!”

Kenma looked up nodding gratefully in reply, then watched as Suga took hold of Daichi’s outstretched hand and walked out, before turning back to the lady and paying.

 

**From: Shoyo**

_ >> KENMMAAA _

_ >> KENMA ARE YOU THERE YET? YOU PROMISED YOU’D MESSAGE ME. _

**To: Shoyo**

_sorry << _

_got caught up with something << _

**From Shoyo:**

_ >> WAA EVERYTHING OKAY??? _

**To: Shoyo**

_hopefully << _

_i’ll tell you about it soon << _

 

When Kenma first met Hinata it was after a year of exchanging letters, messages and eventually video calls. They were first assigned as pen pals, Kenma never understood why their schools thought it was good for them to connect with complete strangers when half the people in his class couldn’t connect with each other.

It was weird at first, receiving letters from a stranger. His handwriting was hard to read and Kenma didn’t fancy going to ask his parents for help to decipher it so he tucked it away in his drawer. It was after the 3rd one that Kenma decided to write a letter back, Hinata wrote just as excitedly as he spoke and texted but even before knowing that Kenma could tell the tone of his letters changed upon not receiving a reply.

He felt guilty when he was able to pick out some words among his handwriting ( _‘my teacher said you must not have gotten the other two, so I tried to write the address better’, ‘I hope it’s just the case that you haven’t gotten them…’)_ and grabbed his pen and paper to reply.  

They got along better than Kenma expected they would, he was relieved to find the cheery tone of his letters returned when Kenma wrote back to him. He doesn’t know when he began to look forward to Hinata’s letters; blabbering on about his day and some guy – who was now his boyfriend – called Kageyama. It wasn’t long before they exchanged numbers and settled for texting instead (Kenma still has all his letters in his drawer back home).

When they first met, they were accompanied by their mothers, who kept a small distance away to give them space and privacy. As loud and energetic as Hinata was; Kenma had fun. He enjoyed Hinata’s company and smiled a little at his messages, Hinata made him _forget_ – and Kenma found it was better to have a long distance friend.

 

**From: Shoyo**

_ >> ARE U HURT? _

_ >> IS SOMEONE STOPPING U FROM TELLING ME _

**To: Shoyo**

_Haha I’m fine shoyo << _

[image attached]

_:) << _

__~_~__

 

 

_“K-Kenma…?”_

_Silence._

_It was too silent._

_He knew he had to speak, he knew that it was his cue to nod or even utter some sort of response, yet his lips remained parted in shock and his body stiff._

_More silence. The shocked smile on his face dropped the same way his heart did._

_He felt bad to be the cause of it but at the same time what more could he do? It had been_ _years_ _. Why was this happening now? Of all the instances in which they could have met again- please say he doesn’t live here too-_

_“Long time no see.”_

_“…Kuro”_

_Should he have called him that? They weren’t friends anymore, it’s been years surely, he didn’t get that privilege anymore. Ah, his eyes lit up. Maybe he did still get that privilege, but he shouldn’t, it’s been years. He didn’t deserve it._

_The tension was sickening, he could feel his hands getting clammy by his sides. He hated it._

_Kuroo looked hesitant, torn between being friendly or staying in this awkward tension that had risen. There were a thousand questions in his eyes._

_He wanted to get away._

_“Would…Would you like me to help you unpack?”_

_“No”_

_His response came out too loud, too fast, so much so that it surprised him too. Kuroo blinked, his face fell once more. He wanted to get away._

_Silence._

_What more could be said after such an outburst?_

_He clenched his hands, breathed in, then grabbed his bags which had fallen to the floor from his shock._

_Kuroo didn’t dare utter a word as he walked past but Kenma did. ‘Sorry I’m tired’_

_He had ruined everything yet again._

_~_~_

 

Kenma put his phone down with a sigh casting his gaze to the window beside him. Why did they have to meet this way? Why did they have to meet at all?

He had apologised again sometime after the shock of it all died down, Kuroo brushed it off with an awkward laugh and a wave. Kenma hated the strain in his voice as he said ‘no worries’ and offered to show him around the next day. He hated the way the tension remained as they walked around earlier.

If avoiding him all this time had been torture, what would living with him be?

How does he make up for all those years?

Kenma groaned reaching for his phone once more, suddenly he didn’t feel like eating his apple pie.


	3. Chapter 3

How long has it been since he moved in? The boxes scattered around his room were evidence that it hadn’t been long but to Kenma it had been far _too_ long.

Just by taking a look around his room you could see Kenma’s priorities were clear by the way his games were stacked neatly on the shelves provided and his consoles placed by the side of his work desk.

Of course, he didn’t _only_ unpack his games. Half his clothes were still left in messily stacked boxes lazily pushed to the corner of his room. He kept things such as his toothbrush, shampoo, deodorant, books and the sort in the bags he carried on his way there – the goal being he wouldn’t have to waste time searching for it when he settled in. For now, he didn’t mind the state of his room, so long as he had clear access to his computer and knew exactly where his games were, there was no problem.

But there _was_ a different problem, it laid in the fact that it was hard to tell when Kuroo was in the dorms.

The place was quiet, too quiet, even with the sound of his typing filling the air. This is how it has been since he moved in, that was why it was hard to tell whether Kuroo was truly here or not.

Kenma slowly stopped typing with a sigh, his eyes were beginning to hurt, and he was sure that half his theory work had become gibberish in the time he spent caught up in his thoughts.

The tension hadn’t left, Kenma still felt it full force whenever they’d bump into each other through some chance. Awkward was a word that was becoming too overused in his head and yet it was the only simple way he could describe how he felt, how _they_ felt. It was awkward when they made eye contact, it was awkward seeing each other outside the dorms, it was awkward when they had to apologise to each other when they bumped together.

It hasn’t been long since he moved in, but he already wanted to get away.

 

Kenma held a sort of love-hate relationship with the quietness, he preferred it greatly to everything else and yet he spent many weeks detesting it under the covers of his bed in his room. This quietness was taunting, it had Kenma wondering if Kuroo was trying to avoid him. He didn’t blame him. It was only right he would.

It was strange. Just how quiet Kuroo could be, then again this was his childhood friend who was far more timid than he was as a child. Surely things had changed in these past few years though, Kenma had the chance to witness some of it. Kuroo had broken out of his shell, made friends, heck he even still plays volleyball. Then…why didn’t he bring friends over? Why wasn’t he louder?

He sighed once again, dragging his palms down his face.

 

_Up. Up._

_“Hey, Kenma?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_He didn’t look up from his DS as he answered, fingers still tapping away at the buttons, aware that his friend wasn’t looking at him either but at the wall in front of them._

_Down. Down._

_“I need to tell you something, I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now actually.”_

_His movement slowed down but the rise and fall of the volleyball in Kuroo’s hands remained constant as he tossed it in the air and caught it half way. Kenma spared a glance at his friend trying to decipher his tone. ‘I need to tell you something’ could mean anything, Kenma could only think of one thing: Kuroo moving away._

_B. A._

_“What is it?” He asked, reverting his eyes back to his game screen. This was the final fight of the game if he completed it now, he could successfully say he had completed the game in less than a week._

_He could see Kuroo shift his gaze to him in the corner of his eyes before they drifted down the game in his hands. Kenma never usually felt anything when Kuroo watched him play yet for some reason he felt tense now._

_“I’m seeing someone! Isn’t that cool? Seeing someone as in a relationship, obviously, I don’t know how serious it is as we’re still pretty young you know but—oh you died. My turn!”_

_Kenma could only blink._

 

He rubbed at his tired eyes.

Why did that day make sure a drastic difference in his life? How did he miss the signs that were so blindingly obvious?

Some part of him knew, he guessed. He knew when Kuroo started spending more time with other friends that _something_ had changed, he knew that the person who always waited outside the gym when they practiced had become somewhat important to Kuroo. He knew when Kuroo would come around his house less often that he was no longer the prime person in his life.

So maybe he _did_ know why that day made such a drastic difference in his life. That day made him realise how easily he could be discarded. They were already drifting away; Kenma only made the gap bigger and Kuroo’s life easier by staying away. Kuroo didn’t seem to notice.

But now that he thinks about it, was he only running away? Reverting more and more into an isolated teen who worried what people thought about him and breaking his only true friendship? It was the only thing his 14 year old self could think of. It was stupid.

Suddenly Kenma was standing, hit by a sudden wave of guilt. It was his fault things had changed; it was his fault things were so awkward. It was his fault that he felt so insecure that the only thing he could do was _run._  It was stupid. How did he think he could get away with it? It was stupid. Those feelings he felt seeing Kuroo be so much happier with people who weren’t him. It was stupid. How he thought he could move on and forget like Kuroo seemed to do all those years ago.

He was walking towards the door; Kuroo should be home now but what would he say? I’m sorry for avoiding you all these years? I’m sorry for ruining things between us? Can we be friends again? – Did he even want to be friends again? Could they go back to what they had before?

Kenma stopped, his door opened slightly. Did he _want_ to be friends with Kuroo again? Or did he want the awkward atmosphere to leave so he could finally _breathe_? Maybe it was the guilt, the mixed feelings and shock of this all happening now. He couldn’t live like this; hiding out in his room, hating the silence of the dorms and the pressure the tension brought.

But what would he say? What did he want?

Kenma sucked on the inside of his cheek, debating many conflicting thoughts in his head before turning to walk back inside his room. A voice called out to him before he could, he paused.

“Kenma?”

He turned back around, eyes slowly raising to meet Kuroo’s.

“Do-Would…Would you like to join me for dinner? I uh haven’t been around to know if you’ve been eating or not. Of course, that’s not the only reason I want you to join me! You don’t have to if you don’t want to-”  

“Okay.”

Kuroo sagged ever so slightly in relief, Kenma was somewhat glad he got his rambling to stop. This wasn’t like the Kuroo he remembered, then again times have changed.

They walked over to the kitchen in silence, Kenma took a seat at the table whilst Kuroo got to sharing out the food. He realised he didn’t know Kuroo could cook or that he didn’t know much about Kuroo in general anymore. By the way his hair still spiked in odd directions with the front still covering half his face, Kenma guessed he still slept with his head between two pillows – somehow that made Kenma happy.

It wasn’t long before there was a plate full of food in front of him, Kuroo sat down opposite him. Kenma stared at the food for a few seconds, identifying what each thing was and judging whether it was good enough to eat or not. Kuroo waited for him to start before starting himself – Kenma picked up on it because it was something the older man used to do when they were kids.

It was silent, for the most part, whilst they ate. Despite not looking up, Kenma never missed the small glances Kuroo would send his way. It was as though he was thinking about something, Kenma guessed it was what to say. He almost wanted to speak for him, but he too was at a loss of what to say. It wasn’t like back then where he could offer him to play games.

When Kuroo did speak up it both surprised him and relieved him, it took him long enough.

“So…how have you been?” It was an awkward question and a cringey attempt of small talk, Kenma wanted to snicker.

“Okay.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but he could be so much better. _They_ could be so much better. “You?”

“Good…Good.”

There was silence for another minute or so. 

“What course are you taking?”

Kenma stopped twisting his food around to glance up at Kuroo once again. “Computer game engineering mainly.” He answered, noting the small smile which tugged at Kuroo’s lips.

“Still into games huh?” Kuroo chuckled, “Give me early access to the latest games and consoles yeah?”

Kenma couldn’t help the half laugh which escaped him, “Yeah right, you’re so tall and large you’d probably break it just by looking at it.” His quiet laughter continued at the look on Kuroo’s face, who knew where the sudden burst of confidence came from?

“Snarky, what happened to the innocent Kenma?” Kuroo chuckled, it was low and much deeper than his laugh used to be. Kenma shrugged in reply ignoring the thoughts and feelings which arose at those words.

“Then what about you?” He asked, “What are you studying?”

“Chemical engineering.” Kuroo beamed proudly, Kenma blinked surprised. That sounded technical and difficult, chemistry was a hard subject on its own.

Kenma’s eyes scanned over the older man, he gave off more the impression of being mysterious and a party goer than smart. Although, if this was the same Kuroo who he remembered from childhood a social party animal wouldn’t come anywhere close to being a good description for the man. He hummed.

“Why do you look so surprised? I am pretty smart you know.” Kuroo added, the slightest of pouts on his lips. Kenma felt another smile tug at his own lips and a chuckle threatening to escape.

“It’s a shame you don’t look it.” He replied, his laughter coming out in faint suppressed snickers at the mock offense on his face.

“You wound me, Kenma.” Kenma could only try and stifle his laugh more, the tension and awkward atmosphere between somehow them long forgotten.

Kuroo slowly smiled, warm and happily, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm. “I’m happy to see you again.” He said, watching as Kenma ducked behind his hair, the words flowed easily from his mouth.

Kenma didn’t need a mirror to know there was a slight warmth to his cheeks at those words, and a tingly happy feeling in his heart.

The words I missed you lingered on their tongues.

 

_~_~_

 

Bokuto was talkative, Akaashi noted. No matter who he was with he always found a way to make conversation or be part of one, it was a charm of his. So, naturally it was no surprise Bokuto was just as talkative today, blathering on about his day switching from one subject to another upon remembering certain things. Akaashi wasn’t exactly sure what the topic of the conversation was this time, then again this seemed to be another one of those instances in which it was better to let Bokuto talk at him instead.

Every once in a while, Akaashi would hum, a way to let the older man know he was still somewhat listening or at least acknowledged he was speaking. It appeared to be enough for his spiky haired friend, who continued all throughout their journey asking what seemed to be rhetorical questions every so often. Akaashi could only follow along quietly, hands by his side almost ready to catch the bag that was wildly swinging with Bokuto’s movements.

It had been a little over week or so since Akaashi offered help with his work, they had met up a few times in between then too.

Somehow, it was refreshing being around Bokuto. A huge contrast to how he had felt when the older man had left for university before him, the place was too quiet, the team had no one to look after besides the first years who had joined. Akaashi found himself checking his phone more often than not, hoping there would be a message and praying the man hadn’t forgotten about him. To be around Bokuto now made him feel complete yet again, it was a feeling he had missed deeply.

He smiled to himself, lifting his gaze from the ground beneath their feet to his friend in front of him broad and strong as ever. Akaashi almost walked into him at the sudden stop.

“ _This_ is where I’ve been spending my days and nights! When I’m not in lectures or at practice, or at the others’ place- well this is where I live now let’s just say that!” said Bokuto, arms open wide to present the room in front of him. Akaashi peered over to get a better view.

“You’ve cleaned.” He stated, removing his shoes by the door once Bokuto had made his way inside.

“Eh?! How did you know? You’ve never been here before!”

Akaashi suppressed a chuckle, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. “I’ve seen your room back home and let’s not forget the many snaps you’ve sent me since moving in here,” He replied, “No offensive but you’re not the type who would keep a clean surrounding, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto let out a sound of defeat, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “Akaaaaashi.” He whined, “You know me too well!”

Akaashi didn’t try to fight the pride that filled him at those words.

“I tried to clean the best I could before meeting you because I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable like Oikawa always claims to be when he comes over.” Bokuto admitted, somewhat sheepishly. (No that wasn’t Akaashi’s heart fluttering).

“You did well, Bokuto-san.” The latter praised, hoping the slight warmth that spread across his cheeks wasn’t obvious. Well, it couldn’t have been more obvious than that of Bokuto’s who was now grinning happily.

“Oh, take a seat! No need to stand around y’know? Make yourself at home as people say.” Said the man, gesturing well…the entire room. Akaashi nodded, slowly sitting down in front of the coffee table by the couch as Bokuto made his way over to the kitchen.

“Hey Akaashi, want something to eat or drink? Kuroo bought me a ton of stuff in exchange for me not going over to his place.”

Akaashi glanced over his shoulder in slight concern, he wanted to ask if everything was okay but from the carefree way in which Bokuto was drinking out of a carton it suggested it was nothing of importance. Akaashi shook his head instead.

“No thank you.” He answered, getting a few books out his bag. He crossed his legs as he waited for Bokuto settle down.

“Ready?” He asked, once the man had finally sat down with a bag of chips.

Bokuto nodded eagerly. “Ready.”

~

It turned out, Bokuto _wasn’t_ ready. Akaashi guessed it was because he forgot exactly what they would be studying that day.

Around half way through his explanation Bokuto had slouched forward in his seat, cheek resting against the coffee table and arms spread out. His eyes were almost void as he stared blankly ahead, a childish pout on his lips as though his work had told him off.

Akaashi left him to answer the questions after his explanation, taking out some work of his own to get done. He had never seen someone glare so grudgingly at a set of math questions until now.

Bokuto spoke up after a short while. “Hey, Akaashi.”

“Yes, Bokuto-san?”

“Did you know Kuroo has a new roommate?”

Akaashi was half expecting some sort of complaint about the work than a question out of the blue. He looked up from his sheets, eyes falling upon his spiky haired friend who still had his cheek pressed against the table – the only difference was he made some attempt at the questions.

He hummed, fingers subconsciously reaching for his phone in his pocket. “No, I didn’t. That’s nice” he answered.

“He’s being all protective over them though, that’s why he’s not letting me go over. I hope he introduces us soon, it’s boring staying here alone and Oikawa is almost never in his dorm.” The man groaned, heaving himself into an upwards position once more.

 _You could come to mine._ Akaashi bit his lip, clearing his mind of silly thoughts. At least that explained why Kuroo had paid him in food not to go over.

“Bokuto-san, your work.” He reminded, sitting forward to bring them back to focus, before either of their minds could wonder anymore. “Here, there’s a really easy way to remember it.”

Only when he had explained the method _and_ ensured Bokuto had understood it, did Akaashi draw his phone out of his pocket.

 

_> > actually it might be okay now_

_> > thanks for the offer_

 

_~_~_

 

“Yo”

The greeting left his mouth naturally as Kuroo entered his dorm, noticing the TV on and a figure sprawled out across his couch. He dropped his bag by the door and made his way over to the fridge to grab a drink before it finally occurred to him, head snapping in the direction of the couch where the figure laid.

“Oi! I thought I told you not to come over, how the hell did you get in anyway?”

The figure shuffled, their quite obvious space themed pyjama bottoms tousling as they moved. A fluff of brown hair peeked out from over the armrest, before Kuroo had sight of the pretty boy it belonged to.

“Well if I remember correctly, you gave me the spare key not long after you first moved in.” Tittered the figure, smiling in that annoyingly cute way he always did before his head disappeared behind the couch once again.

Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows, closing the fridge door with a partially annoyed frown. “That spare key was for emergencies, not to enter willy nilly after I told you not to come over.” _What if Kenma had been home?_

“Yadda yadda.” Was Oikawa’s careless response, his hand waved above the couch to support his words. Kuroo’s frown morphed to a scowl as he made his way over to the said couch ready to pour the water he had gotten to drink over the man, at least until he noticed what exactly was playing on the TV and the bear which was wrapped up in his long arms.

His expression softened more so when he had a clearer view of his friend. The documentary was about some conspiracy theory, something that he could have watched in his own dorm but lately Oikawa would come over to his dorm to lay down and watch it. Kuroo remembered seeing him watch it over and over not long after they had started University, when he asked about it Oikawa simply said it was something he used to watch with Iwaizumi.

The bear was something Bokuto had won at a festival they went to some time ago, they had all argued over it after Kuroo and Oikawa had paid for the shots for him to play. In the end they decided to share it equally, Kuroo wasn’t sure when it began to live in his dorm, but it became a comfort bear of the sorts.

It didn’t take long to put two and two together. Kuroo could see the purplish pink tone to his usually vibrant skin under his red rimmed eyes, a sign he had either been crying or hadn’t slept. He opted for the latter, Tooru wasn’t one to cry easily.

Sighing softly, Kuroo lifted pyjama covered legs and slide onto the end of the couch before resting them down on his lap. Tooru’s eyes never left the screen, his glasses discarded on the floor in front of him. Kuroo didn’t both questioning if he could see or not, he rubbed the legs which laid on his lap instead.

“You gonna tell me the reason you broke into my dorms or not?” Kuroo asked after a short while of silence.

Oikawa spared him a glance, “There’s a difference between breaking in and letting myself in – may I add with the key you gave me, Tetsu-chan.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re still not allowed over when it clearly seems things have gotten better between you and your precious childhood friend?” Oikawa asked in the same tone Kuroo had used.

He paused. Was there a reason he still wouldn’t let them meet Kenma? Oikawa was right about things getting better between them, Kuroo could finally say with confidence that the tension between them had dispersed. It didn’t feel _as_ awkward to make conversation with the man anymore but that wasn’t to say things weren’t at all awkward. They were getting there, gradually finding themselves more comfortable with each other.

Kenma was shy, but not to the extent he needed to be protected. Kuroo knew this, so what was holding him back? Kenma could talk to whoever he wanted; in fact, it would be easier for him to know his friends.

He gnawed at his cheek gently before shrugging and admitting defeat. “Touché.”

Oikawa hummed turning his gaze back to the TV, Kuroo gave him a few minutes longer before speaking up again.

“Have you spoken to him recently?”

He was silent for a few seconds, his grip on the bear tightening ever so slightly. “No,” He answered dimly, “He’s busy and I didn’t want to disturb him too much.” Kuroo sighed once again, holding back a shake of his head. Oikawa was intelligent but sometimes he could be a real idiot.

“There’s not long now, you know?” Kuroo reminded, seeing the faint smile against his friend’s lips.

“I know.” He murmured. Kuroo couldn’t pretend he didn’t know what it felt like to miss someone, it stayed with him all throughout high school and up until now. Even now a little part of him still longed for what they had. He’s been through the full experience, maybe that was why he understood how Oikawa felt in this moment in time. Although, this wasn’t the first time Oikawa had looked this down.  Kuroo could only sit with him and wait for him to talk or remind him to message the man as well as how many days were left.

 

It wasn’t long before the documentary came to an end and Oikawa was sitting up reaching for his glasses. “Well I’ll be out your way now; I have some work I’ve been neglecting. It’s probably wondering where I am.”

Kuroo chuckled at the poor attempt of a joke, lifting his arms so the man could stand. “You’re really going to walk around in your pyjamas?” 

“What’s wrong with my pyjamas?” asked Oikawa, a childish pout on his lips as he put his glasses on. “They’re comfy and I look great in them, I don’t see a problem.”

Well he wasn’t wrong there.

“You’d look better if you got some sleep.” Kuroo commented, tilting his head back to watch the man walk towards his door. Oikawa paused, he wondered what expression he might have been making, before he glanced over his shoulder and smiled tiredly.

“I will. Thank you, Tetsu-chan.” 

With a nod, Kuroo turned back to the TV as Oikawa continued his journey out. He didn’t think anything at the sound of the door opening, listening out for the click to signal it had shut. He almost dropped his remote at the words which followed instead.

 

“Oh, Pudding-head.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for any errors there may be! I didn't get anyone to beta read it.


	4. Chapter 4

It was strange how lecturers didn’t seem to care whether you were late or not, Kenma thought. Or at least this applied to  _ his  _ teachers, who simply warned them they’d have to catch up by themselves should they turn up late. (He learnt this from the few times he’s overslept since moving in, it came as a relief there was no big consequences to his late nights). 

Classes here at University were different to that of High school, people actually  _ wanted  _ to do the work here compared to a class full of grumpy teenagers, who were forced to learn things they’d probably forget in ten years to come. Kenma was surprised to find just how calm, chilled and free the atmosphere of the room was whenever he entered. Although it remained somewhat divided, everyone spoke to each other; gave feedback or help. Kenma didn’t feel as nervous to interact with his classmates. 

It was scary, just how easily things could change. It never occurred to Kenma until it did. One minute he was aware of his anxieties to starting University, the next he had suddenly settled in blind to the change which had taken place. 

It happened so quickly, a flash surpassing the speed of light. It caused a series of mixed feelings to rise within him and a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.

Kenma sighed, pulling his bag over his shoulders. He should be happy; the word ‘different’ replaced awkward – a word which has become overused and annoying lately. He should be happy that he’s settled in to Uni, and lessened the tension between him and Kuroo. This change wasn’t as bad as he initially thought it would be, so  _ why  _ was it so conflicting?

He felt somewhat bad for not doing much work during this period, in fact he’s sure he’s accidentally blanked a few of his classmates from being too engrossed in his thoughts. He could only try and shake them away as he made his way out of the room.

Somewhere along the line of him moving in, Kenma had managed to find his way around without paying too much attention to his surroundings. He’s learnt when to look up to avoid tripping up the tattered stairs leading to the dorms, and when to turn to avoid ending up in a part of the campus he didn’t even know existed. 

He had Kuroo to thank for that, in a way, despite the painfully tense air between them at their first encounter; Kenma  _ did _ listen to him when he briefly explained parts of the campus. Even if it was hard to know what he was talking about from the way they both avoided eye contact. Even so, Kuroo couldn’t take all the credit. 

 

_ “How do you know Oikawa?”  _

_ The door had barely closed before the words were rushing out his mouth, he blinked his hand still grazing the door handle. Kuroo looked alert more than surprised, his eyes demanded an answer – Kenma felt himself waver under his gaze.  _

_ Kuroo stood in front of the couch, hands pressed to the back as he leant forward. His voice held a sense of protectiveness but Kenma couldn’t tell  _ who _ he was protective of. He frowned, shuffling slightly from his stare.  _

_ “That guy? He showed me to the dorms when I first arrived…” He explained, eyes scanning his face in an attempt to understand what exactly was going on. Kenma tilted his head at the groan which left the man as he sagged against the couch. “Kuro…?” _

 

Oikawa Tooru, the name of the stranger who had helped him find his way – as Kuroo so kindly informed him. It came as a surprise to Kenma that man’s ‘usual’ bright smile, which never seemed to leave his face, was replaced by a tired, glum expression as he opened the door. He could sense the smile which he formed before he left was forced as he walked away. 

Kenma couldn’t help but wonder whether his grin was simply for show to the girls, who seemed to fawn over him some distance away, or if grins and peace signs were simply his trademark. 

He was probably the popular type, Kenma thought. Which meant Kuroo probably fell under that category too. (He couldn’t deny that Kuroo had grown to be...well... hot since they last saw each other). They were friends as far as he could deduce- Oikawa and Kuroo that was - which was somewhat relieving he thought. He was close to thinking Kuroo didn’t have friends, until he eventually realised it was Kuroo’s way of being considerate of him. Somehow that gave Kenma mixed feelings as well. 

 

Living with Kuroo was just as strange. In some way, the lack of awkward tension between them made it easier for Kenma to notice the small things about Kuroo. It was easier to breathe and walk around now, without the fear that Kuroo might be home. But things were still different, and Kenma couldn’t let it go. 

 

Their dorm was generally kept to a clean standard, with the odd few bits here and there, Kenma noticed how Kuroo would leave his door slightly ajar when he was home or in his room. The times it was closed he concluded no one was home – this he noticed before they had begun to speak to each other again (it was the only way he could run to the bathroom). 

Laundry was another thing Kenma had noticed, he should have expected it really – after all they were both guys who relied on someone else to do their washing. It was only when they were walking around nearing the last few pieces of clean clothing, did Kenma do something about it. His mother had been mortified but at least he knew what to do now. (It took Kuroo a short while to notice himself before he praised him on being ‘wife material’; needless to say, he had learnt his lesson after being kicked in the shin).  

It wasn’t long before Kenma noted how Kuroo would leave food out in the kitchen or in the microwave if he wasn’t home before him or if he had left out early, it reminded him of a busy parent who couldn’t stay at home to eat in a way. (He still hasn’t figured out what Kuroo has been getting up to, but he decided it wasn’t his business to ask). At some point he realised Kuroo would deliberately leave it in plain sight when he was aware he hadn’t eaten, Kenma couldn’t say he didn’t appreciate the gesture. 

It seemed he wasn’t the only one who could read people and he wasn’t sure how to feel. 

 

Kenma sighed once again, hand reaching into his pocket to press skip on the song which was playing through his earphones. Walking didn’t seem as long when you were lost in thought, he found. In all honesty, he was surprised he made it this far without walking into anyone - better yet into the road. He guessed it was the perk of being subconsciously aware of his surroundings.

Slowly, Kenma came to a stop, his eyes wandering around for a clear input of where he was. The café should be further down the street, the next corner as you go along. It’s become a favoured spot of his lately, once he had realised not many people visited around the time he went. 

He turned his gaze to the building in front of him, it was an old looking place marked ‘Bookstore’ which he never noticed before. Intrigued, Kenma pushed open the door, looking up at the sound of a bell as it opened. The lighting gave a warm glow to the store, everything about it was neat as soon as you stepped in. Kenma suddenly felt out of place. 

This was something like what you’d see in aesthetic pictures, he almost wanted to turn around and leave as to not ruin it until a certain book caught his eye. 

He didn’t know when his feet began to move again or when he had picked the book up, until he was flicking through it.

 

_ Loud. It was too loud.  _

_ The music, the chatter, the laughs which echoed in his ears.  _

_ He didn’t like it; the dancing, the walking, running, movements that were so fast that it blurred together in his eyes. He could feel himself getting dizzy with each minute, suffocating in the hot air around him.  _

_ He wished he could go outside, get away from the people, the sounds, get some  _ air -  _ but his parents would worry if they couldn’t see him. Did they even know where he was?  _

_ His legs jittered, the heels of his feet rising and falling heavily against the floor as he looked around. There was a boy sat a few seats away from him, he wondered if he was annoying them but couldn’t bring himself to stop.  _

_ There was likely another few hours of this to come, his stomach twisted when he realised his DS wouldn’t hold out. _

_ The boy was reading, his eyes scanned over the front cover of the book. He took in the simpleness of it but the long title, at least that was bound to last the boy until he left. He wished he could say the same thing.  _

_ His body sagged in his chair as his the screen of his DS eventually went black, just as he expected. His leg jittered more, the other threatening to join too as he closed the screen. The feeling in his stomach was unpleasant and sickening. He wanted to get out.  _

_ “Excuse me.” _

_ He jumped at the voice, his eyes darting upwards to see who it was talking to him. The boy. His neutral face was hard to read, it sent a wave of uneasiness through him. He forgot to answer.  _

_ “Can I sit here?” The boy asked, gesturing the seat beside him, he didn’t seem to mind the fact he didn’t answer. Kenma slowly nodded, shuffling the slightest bit closer to the edge of his seat.  _

_ The silence between them was just as bad as the loudness around them. Kenma noticed he had started reading once more and wanted to question why he asked to sit next to him, the boy spoke up before he could.  _

_ “You can read it if you would like.” He froze at the hands offering him the book.  _

 

“You still like it.” Kenma just about jumped three foot in the air. He blinked, rapidly, turning to face the owner of the voice who chuckled softly at his reaction. “The book,” They added, “You still like it, Kenma-san.” 

“...Keiji.” 

~_~_~

 

Kenma had never really been the type to read in his free time, so long as he had his games he’d be fine he used to - and still does say. This change was one he found didn't mind. 

He met Keiji at a wedding their parents dragged them too, Kenma underestimated the time in which they’d be there for. Thinking back on it now, he’s glad Akaashi came over and offered him the book, even if he was too shy to deny him and was ultimately forced to take it. 

He almost forgot how heavy this book was on his palms, weighing him down despite being pages of paper. It was the same as when he first got the book, the surprise of it still very much there. He remembered thinking how fast he’d get bored of it only to be proven wrong a few chapters in. Akaashi had said he could keep it to finish it, despite Kenma’s weak protests. Even when Kenma had tried to return it some time later, Akaashi simply smiled and told him to keep it. 

It had been a while since he last read it. 

“Thanks for waiting, Kenma-san.” 

Kenma looked up, giving a short nod in reply as the taller male tugged his jacket over his shoulders. “Did you want to buy that? I forgot to ask.” Akaashi questioned, gesturing the book in his hands with a glance. Kenma shook his head, placing it back down where he found it. 

“I still have the copy you gave me, somewhere.” He replied, following alongside the man once Akaashi had handed over to his colleague. 

Akaashi chuckled quietly, “Somewhere, I suppose that’s better than throwing it away.”

“Why would I throw it away? It was yours.” Kenma mumbled, dodging a group of people who didn’t seem to care where their limbs were going. “It’s a good book anyway.” He added,  _ I’ve read it multiple times,  _ he didn’t miss the trace of a smile on Akaashi’s face. 

Akaashi hadn’t changed since the last time Kenma saw him, his appearance and speech was still very much the same. He was the only other person who Kenma would call a close friend; though he was different to Hinata, they both provided the same levels of support for him. Kenma found it was relieving to have Akaashi close by, and though it hurts to say it - He had slowly replaced Kuroo’s ‘childhood’ friend title.

No further words were exchanged as they made their way towards the cafe at the street, the silence was one they had gotten used to over time. Kenma was glad Akaashi wasn't one for constant chatter.

The lady behind the counter, Shimizu, smiled as they entered, seemingly ready to prepare Kenma’s order. On one hand, Kenma was glad he no longer had to repeatedly ask for a slice of apple pie when he entered, on the other, it was almost embarrassing how often he’s come in here in the short while he’s lived here. Either way he was happy with the outcome as they took a seat in his usual spot. 

“I didn’t know you worked in a bookstore.” Kenma spoke after a few minutes of silence between them, _ granted I never asked _ , he thought to himself. 

Akaashi simply hummed in response, his hands clasped around the mug containing his drink - Kenma wondered if it wasn’t hot enough to stop him from doing such a thing. 

“I applied before I started Uni, they give quite flexible hours and it helps to have extra money to buy food and necessities.” Akaashi replied. 

“Responsible as ever.” Kenma mumbled, the tips of his fork twirling against the plate in front of him. “A job  _ and  _ an apartment, I was lucky enough to get an apartment style dorm.” 

“But you could work too, Kenma-san,” said Akaashi, Kenma saw a somewhat teasing smirk tugging at his lips as he spoke, “You’re just lazy.” Well, Kenma wouldn’t completely deny that statement. 

He shrugged, taking much smaller bites of his apple pie than he usually would. “What about you then?” Akaashi asked, breaking his thoughtless gaze towards the table. “How are you finding life here?” 

Akaashi didn’t need to say it for Kenma to know what he was implying. Akaashi was both patient and blunt, which really worked in Kenma’s favour. He knew that if he wasn’t ready to talk about something Akaashi would lay off, yet he also knew the time would come were Akaashi would make him say what was on his mind. Today, it seemed, was one of those days where Akaashi would wait for him to fess up first. 

Kenma sighed, resting his cheek against his open palm propped up on the table. 

_ i can’t keep living here if this is how it’s going to be _ <<

_ >> There’s always a spare room here at my apartment if need be _

 

“It’s not as though things have completely been patched up between us,” He started, lowly, “There’s still some awkwardness and I haven’t fully gotten over the fact that he’s my roommate. But I guess things are better now, for the most part. I’m just...uncertain on how I should feel about it all.” 

Akaashi was silent for a moment, raising his drink to his lips to take a sip. “You know, I read this book once where the main character lost someone dear to them under bad circumstances and couldn’t let go.” He eventually said in return.

Kenma stared at him blankly trying to figure out where he would be going with this. “And?”

“They tried everything they could to bring them back and avoid the reality of what had happened.” Akaashi continued. “You remind me of one of the characters.”

“It sounds like a romance novel” said Kenma, ignoring the ways in which this said character could possibly relate to him. He picked up his fork and continued to eat. 

“Not necessarily.” Akaashi replied, eyes trained on him. “I’ll lend it to you some time, but my point is I think you have a root to the inner turmoil you feel which you must get past, before you will find that certainty you long for of what you really feel.”

He sucked on his cheek, “You know Kuroo right? What do you think of him?” 

Akaashi thought for a moment before speaking up: “Kuroo-san is...an odd case. He’s intelligent, seemingly cool, and not the worst looking, but in reality I think he loses a few brain cells when he’s with his friends and he can be a bit of a pain in the ass. Overall, he’s a good guy who cares deeply beneath his exterior. Though, I think you would know Kuroo-san better than anyone else, Kenma-san.”

Kenma didn’t have the energy to protest against him, how could he know Kuroo better than anyone else when he  _ hasn’t  _ been in his life as long as he could’ve been? How could he know Kuroo better than anyone else when it feels as though he’s learning more and more new things about him each and every day? 

Kenma did know everything about Kuroo once upon a time, but now they were living in different worlds - their cores shaken and torn from the raincloud which loomed over their previously warm, sunshine, city. Kenma had hit reset, and now he had to start from the very beginning. It was like waking up to find someone had forgotten everything about you, whilst you still hung onto the bittersweet memories. Except this was reality. 

And reality hurt.

~_~_~

 

There was something about the silence that Kenma hated, maybe it was because it was all he was surrounded by back then or maybe it was because it was something which made his skin itch in discomfort upon moving in. Whatever it was, it no longer comforted Kenma like it used to. Whenever it came to silence, he found, there was something wrong. 

Which is why he was frozen by the door, hand still lightly grasping the handle as he stood staring towards the kitchen. His bag had begun to slide off his shoulder but he couldn’t find it in him to care at that moment. 

Maybe he was overthinking, assuming it was for him-

“Ah Kenma.” 

Kenma hoped his inhale of air wasn’t audible at the mention of his name, as his eyes rose up from what was on the table to the eyes of the man he now called his dorm mate. There was a smile on his face as he acknowledged his presence, the jacket still on his body told Kenma that he must have arrived shortly before him. 

He could only stare. 

“Welcome back, I happened to spot some apple pie when I was coming back from practice. You still like it, right? I mean I can have it if you don’t, I just remembered how much you loved it when we were kids s’all.” said Kuroo, rubbing the back of his neck as he neared the end of his explanation.

Kenma swallowed, his eyes drifting back to pie. It was clearly a friendly gesture but his words sent an uncomfortable feeling to the pit of his stomach. He remembered. He should be happy that he remembered...but if he remembered...why did he forget about him so easily? 

“Uh...” Kuroo’s expression contoured to one of concern at the long silence which filled the air, Kenma blinked when he realised the change. 

“I still like it.” He answered, watching his face lift ever so slightly. He decided not to mention he had just had some with Akaashi, there was no harm in another. 

“Great! I was worried I’d have to eat it all myself for a second” Kuroo chuckled, it sounded sheepish so close to being awkward - he wanted to cringe. He nodded instead, letting his bag fall completely to the ground. 

“There’s this movie on that people are talking about, they say it fits everyone’s tastes, wanna watch?” asked Kuroo, once Kenma had returned from his room in a new change of clothing. Kenma noticed how he had dished out the pie slices and was walking over to their couch, he almost felt forced to say yes. 

“Sure.” He murmured, accepting his slice with a small thank you. Kuroo smiled as they sat down, his long legs stretched over the coffee table. Kuroo had really grown since then, Kenma brought his legs to his chest. 

This was wrong.

This was wrong, this was  _ wrong.  _

Though the silence was mutual, though the silence was there for a reason, it sent a wave of discomfort through him. This was wrong; those three words swirled around his mind so fast it dizzed him. His toes curled underneath his socks, his hand grasped the side of the couch. 

This isn’t how it should be.

Why were they sitting casually? Why would Kuroo buy him apple pie? Why wasn’t he mad, upset, or even the slightest bit fazed by the situation? Why, why,  _ why, why- _

“Why don’t you hate me?”

 

Kenma didn’t like the new found tension in the air, or the way Kuroo froze in his seat at the unplanned question. He didn’t like the look of confusion on his face or the way his own heart thudded against his chest. His hand fisted the couch tighter, his eyes squeezed shut to avoid the look on Kuroo’s face.

“Why aren’t you angry at me? Why are you being so nice to me?  _ Why won’t you say something about back then?”  _ Kenma’s voice rose towards the end, the plate on his lap close to overturning at the intensity of his questions. 

He wondered what kind of expression Kuroo was making now. He had finally let out the words he had wanted to say since they began talking again, the questions which have wracked his brain, his body, his very being. 

_ Why didn’t you fight for me? _

“I don’t see why I should be mad at you.” 

Kenma slowly opened his eyes, face turning to look over at the man who had situated himself to fully face Kenma. 

“Am I not allowed to be nice to my friends?” Kuroo asked, he no longer looked confused. There was something else behind his tone of voice, behind those eyes locked on his smaller frame. It almost made Kenma shiver.

Friends, huh? He really thought of them as friends. After all those years, after what he did - what they both did. He thought of them as friends. 

“There will never be a day where I will hate you, Kozume Kenma. I swear that on my life.” Kuroo continued, a strong wave of seriousity engulfing the room. He words held no trace of a lie and that worried Kenma. 

“You’ve done so much for me Kenma, I’m forever thankful for our small childhood years together. You ask why I’m not angry, and the answer is because I know you had your reasons for going your own way. So my question is; why would I let that ruin my chance to rebuild that friendship I cherished those years ago?”

 

This was wrong. 

He shouldn’t sound so sincere, he shouldn’t think so positively about the situation, he shouldn’t forgive him so easily. Why? Why did he trust him so much? Did he miss the point completely?

There was a wetness to his eyes which Kenma furiously blinked away, ducking behind his hair to escape the gaze locked on him. This was wrong. 

And yet, Kenma felt relieved.


	5. Chapter 5

_ Why don’t you hate me? _

Kenma was  truly strange, Kuroo thought as a child.  _ Why don’t you hate me?  _ Those five words circled his mind, ruptured his heart and screamed at him in the middle of the night. It startled him, shocked him to his core, and tugged at every string which could possibly hurt him – the look on Kenma’s face after he had said those words. The pure confusion, pain and sadness which swirled through his eyes in the split second he had them open. Kenma was strange, thought Kuroo as an adult.  Some things never change. 

Whilst he had grown out of his shy and timid self, a large part of Kenma still held onto his it seemed. Yet Kenma was different now, Kuroo couldn’t read Kenma as well as he could before. Kenma was older, Kenma had changed his hair, Kenma’s attitude had changed ever so slightly – but it was that slight change which had made a huge difference to who Kenma was now. 

_ Why don’t you hate me? _

It was a stupid question, Kuroo thought. A very stupid question. How _could_ he hate him after all he’s done? Kuroo would ask those nights where he couldn’t sleep, he guessed it was _because of_ all he’s done that Kenma would ask such a question. But Kuroo owed a lot to Kenma, he had so much to be thankful for and hate was a strong word. How could anyone hate Kenma? 

The subtle ways in which he pushed Kuroo forward, the small distractions he provided to cheer him up, the time he sacrificed to spend time with him – Kenma did all that for  _ him _ and  _ only _ him. 

He had his reasons. 

Kuroo often said when people asked why he wasn’t accompanied by the small boy. He had his reasons, Kuroo said when he found himself wondering why Kenma no longer spent time with him. He had his reasons, Kuroo thought, when his told him Kenma was attending a different high school.  _ He had his reasons _ , Kuroo would chant in his head like some form mantra – some way to believe that he wasn’t the reason, in the middle of the night.  _ He had his reasons,  _ for suddenly parting ways, and Kuroo would respect that because he respected Kenma – heck he would do anything for Kenma. His first friend, his  _ best _ friend. Even if it hurt not to walk home with him anymore, even if it hurt not see him around anymore, even if it hurt that Kenma chose a different school – he had his reasons. And of course, Kuroo had his speculations for  _ why  _ it came to this, of course he tried to figure out why or what he had done but it was Kenma who held the answers (he always did) and Kenma had walked out of his life. 

Kenma was weird but Kuroo had learnt a lot about him in the short time they had spent together, so he held onto that small thread of false hope that things would turn around because something told him that it everything would be unveiled in a matter of time. 

_ Why don’t you hate me? _

Losing Kenma, the only one who’s ever known who he was, who he’s not and who he ever wanted to be, hurt more than heartbreak, it hurt more than any injury or insult. Yet Kuroo couldn’t hate the ones who made him. 

 

“--Let’s just throw a bucket of water at him or something.” 

At the sound of a rather pathetic attempt of a whisper, Kuroo returned to his surroundings blinking once then twice. He looked to his right, where both Bokuto and Oikawa stood seemingly conjuring up ideas of how to snap him out of his thoughts. 

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Try that and it’ll be the last time you’re ever allowed in my dorm.” 

Bokuto jumped at the sound of his voice, his head snapping to face his best friend in surprise. “Bro you’ve returned!! I thought you were having an outer body experience or something!” his spiked hair friend exclaimed, letting go of Oikawa who shrugged his hands off of him. 

“So you thought throwing water at me would send me back?” Kuroo asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“It was either that or a volleyball dude” replied the man, “You were out of it for like 5 minutes what else was I supposed to do?” Bokuto threw his hands in the air with the slightest hint of a pout on his lips. 

Kuroo couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, “Thanks for worrying bro” he answered, patting his shoulder. 5 minutes huh? 

“Of course bro, I’d do anything for you bro.” Grinned Bokuto, resting both hands on his hips somewhat proudly. 

At that Kuroo wiped a fake tear, “ _ Bro.”  _

“ _ Bro” _

A loud clear of the through interrupted their moment, Kuroo looked over to see Oikawa with a semi amused expression. “Not to ruin the moment but now that we’ve got Tetsu-chan back I think we should practice before Yakkun comes and kicks our asses.” Said the pretty man, nodding at the large clock on the wall. 

It was than that Kuroo remembered exactly what was happening today. 

 

_ “Do you still play volleyball?” It was silent until Kenma’s quiet voice pierced the air, he looked up at the sound blinking away the awkward thickness surrounding them.  _

_ Kuroo wanted to grin at the man’s interest in him but could only muster a small smile, “Yeah.” He replied. “Just for fun though, like it’s always been.” _

_ Kenma nodded, it too, was small and faint. His eyes were on the carpet in front of them rather than Kuroo’s face. The silence began to build up once more. _

_ “You should come watch us play sometime.”  _

 

“It’ll be Kuroo’s fault as usual” said Bokuto, bouncing the ball in his hands. By now he was a short distance away from the said man as to avoid any punches or kicks to be swung his way. 

Kuroo sent a half betrayed look and half a glare to his friend at that, “Right after our moment.”

Bokuto laughed as loud as his personality, “sorry bro!” 

The door to the gym opened before they could bicker anymore, the trio (plus a few other members of their club) turned their heads. 

“A little part of me dies every time I enter this gym and find no one warming up” said Yaku, his body sagging to emphasise his point. Laughter echoed through the open space as Yaku fully entered, clapping his hands for the team to begin their warmups.

 

“Hey Kuroo, didn’t you say that friend of yours is coming to watch us practice?” 

Kuroo is midway through his stretches when the question is asked that seems to pique everyone’s interest. 

Particularly Bokuto’s whose hand slips from Kuroo’s back leading him to tumble forwards and almost fold Kuroo in two in the process. “Oh yeah!! Your roommate who you won’t stop talking about! What was his name? K…Kenta?” 

With a loud grunt, Kuroo nudges at his friend to ‘get the hell off him’ before sitting up and rubbing his back in pain. “It’s Kenma, and yes he should be.” He corrected. 

“I see why Tetsu-chan didn’t want many people knowing about him, pudding head is quite the cutie” said Oikawa, his voice teasing and playful – Kuroo wanted to smack the smirk off his face in the ‘kindest’ way possible. 

“You’ve seen him?!” Bokuto asks, or rather shouts. “That’s so unfair, why did he get to see him first? I thought we were bros!” 

Kuroo let out somewhat of an angry grumble, “That’s what I’ve been wondering too.” Bokuto tilted his head in confusion. 

“Now, now, Tetsu-chan no need to get angry at me for being there at the right place and right time.” Oikawa teased; a giggle soon followed the movement of his hands. “You have my blessing.”

This time Kuroo sent a half hearted glare, “You don’t even know him why do I need your blessing?”

“Wait” The group turned to Yaku, “Is Kenma the one who you said was an incredible setter when we were back in high school?” he asked. 

Kuroo gave a short nod, realising now just how much he’s talked about the man in his absence. Kenma truly did leave a massive impact on his life, it was bittersweet in some ways.

“Yeah” he eventually replied, “He is.” 

“Dude we should ask him to set for us some time!!” suggested Bokuto, voice full of enthusiasm. He was quick to apologise at Oikawa’s sound of offense. 

Kuroo couldn’t deny that he hasn’t thought about that before. 

Once again, the door to the gym opened revealing their coach, one by one everyone began to stand and get ready to practice. Leaving Kuroo to wonder why his heart sunk. 

His eyes glanced to the clock on the wall before they drifted to the door once more. “Kuroo come on you won’t get much practice done sat there!” 

He sighed, standing up dejectedly, “Yes coach” his gaze lingered on the door more than the ball in play.

_~_~_

 

_ “Think of your anxiety like a scale, 1 being completely at ease and 10 being the absolute worst. What do you feel more often than not?”  _

There was a blurriness to his eyes Kenma couldn’t seem to get rid of, as he searched his drawer for clothes which could be deemed decent to wear outdoors. His breathing felt faster than usual but that could just be the shock of waking up so late and jumping out of bed in a panic, yet it made it harder to concentrate on the task at hand. 

He swallowed, the knot in his throat proving the action to be rather difficult, then blinked. The blurriness remained all the same. Maybe it wasn’t the usual haze of sleep which clouded his eyes in the early moments of waking up. He bit his lip harder. 

_ “5.5, maybe 6”  _

A shaky groan left his mouth as he stilled his actions, hands gripping the fabric of his clothes. This was stupid, Kenma thought. This was stupid and yet his body was taking it to heart, causing his hands to shake and breathing to stutter. Kenma closed his eyes, counted to 100 and then repeated the process. Today was looking to start off a 7. 

There were two things Kenma noticed when he eventually came to once again. The first was that it was bright, his eyes closed instinctively before opening slowly once more to adjust better. It reminded him of a game he played in which his character woke up in field, the brightness of his room could contend to that of the game. It was cold. This was the second thing Kenma registered in his static mind, it took a few seconds more for him to realise he was stood in shorts and a loose tee. He began to look through his clothes yet again, calmer this time, until eventually he picked out an outfit. 

_ “What colour are you today?”  _

He had missed his 8am lecture, Kenma thought as he brushed his teeth with more force than usual. It was his first lecture he has missed since he started here. Sleeping in would be a pathetic excuse, missing his alarm cliché. Kenma shook his head as to not let it bother him.

_ “Yellow”  _

In no longer than 15 minutes later, Kenma was out the dorm with his game and phone pocketed, and keys in hand. It was loud, Kenma kept his head down as he walked focusing on arriving before it was too late rather than the bodies which pushed past him. He could feel his anxiety spike but forced it down with a deep inhale, today was simply off to a bad start. 

He winced as someone’s bag collided with his side. 7 was steadily increasing to an 8 and yellow was blurring together with red.  _ Today was simply off to a bad start.  _

Kenma increased his pace, evening with plenty of space surrounding him it felt as if the world was closing in on him. His hands itched for his game, he needed to pay attention to where he was going. 

 

It was as if the universe took pity on him, as soon enough he had reached his destination. Slightly out of breath and most certainly not in the best of moods. Kenma found himself wondering why he made such an effort to show up after how his day had started, but the loud echoes of shoes against the gym floor followed by familiar bounces of balls told Kenma it was a bit too late to turn back. 

To turn back would be running away and running away was something Kenma had done to Kuroo too much over the years. So, he took a deep breath a nervous hand reaching forward to open the door. 

He supposed some part of him was relieved practice still seemed to be going on but who knew how long was left? Would Kuroo even appreciate him showing up this late?

A small sound left Kenma as the door suddenly opened, revealing a man much bigger than himself wiping away his sweat with a towel. Kenma quickly diverted his eyes before stepping out of the way but their eyes were still on him, lingering as if to make out whether they knew him or not. Kenma fidgeted under their gaze.

“Are you…Kuroo’s friend?” 

Was he?  _ “Am I not allowed to be nice to my friends?” _

He slowly nodded; his eyes locked to the steps beneath them. “Kuroo!!” Kenma jumped at the sudden loudness from the stranger, if their build wasn’t intimidating enough then their voice was enough to overwhelm him. “Your friend is here!! He’s short right?” 

Kenma frowned. A voice spoke up before he could even think of letting out a grumble at those words, "Don't be so rude!" 

The stranger was quick to move out of the way of a volleyball sent in his direction, it wasn't long before a hand was dragging them in by their collar and familiar nest of black hair was peeking out the doorway. Kenma almost sagged in relief at the warm smile sent his way. 

Kuroo wasn't mad, or at least he didn't show it on the outside. Then again, Kuroo never got mad at Kenma, and as privileged as he should feel Kenma couldn't help but  _ want  _ him to be mad at him. It wasn't fair, this wasn't right, but Kenma was selfish he always had been. It was his drive to change that which led to their distance. 

"You came." 

There was something about Kuroo's tone which played with his heart, twisted it with guilt and left Kenma feeling worse. He was thinking of going home, he was wondering why he bothered and yet he didn't think about Kuroo. Since living with him it seemed as though he had never thought about how Kuroo could feel. 

Kuroo had looked hopeful when he asked Kenma to come watch them practice, Kenma could  _ feel  _ it in his gaze. 

"Sorry I'm late" He mumbled, it was the only thing he could muster out of his mouth but it seemed to be enough as Kuroo stepped aside allowing him entrance to the gym.  

“Are you...alright?” asked the taller of the two, the warmth to his eyes were still there Kenma noted yet there was a wave of concern which steadily filled them. Kenma shifted his gaze down once more, sparing the gym a quick glance. There were people staring, talking, and from this distance he couldn’t tell if they were talking about him. Slowly, he pushed his fidgeting hands into his pockets feeling the cool surface of his game and phone. 

He nodded. 

“Sorry about Bokuto, he can be loud and overbearing sometimes but he’s a great guy beneath that. You can always tell him to shut up if you want.” said Kuroo, a small chuckle following his words. He laughed some more at the stranger’s - Bokuto’s - squawk of offence.

There was something about the way Kuroo played which told Kenma this may not be ‘just for fun’, the said man concluded a few minutes after they had resumed practice. He had chosen to sit a short distance away from the coach who had a rather intimidating expression on his face as he observed the games in play. 

Kuroo on the other hand looked happy beneath his concentration, his reflexes mimicked that of an intelligent cat. He was fast, scheming and knew precisely the right time to jump and-- “Gotcha” --block. Really, this Bokuto guy couldn’t have gotten past that one. If anything he would have had a better chance at the other side of the court. 

Kenma lightly shook his head, calls of ‘next time’ and ‘don’t mind’ filling the air. Kuroo looked at home in his movements, actions so coordinated that it had to be engraved his subconscious mind. All the while Kenma watched in awe, and for a brief second it felt as though his was young again watching the players on his TV as Kuroo blabbered about how cool they were. Things have changed now, as Kenma is constantly reminded. Kuroo has become one of those players he thought looked cool all those years ago, and what had Kenma become? 

Kuroo had evolved, Kuroo had grown stronger, found a team in which he can show off his skills. This was most certainly not just for fun, Kuroo was a new person and Kenma had lost the chance to be part of his growth. 

_~_~_

 

“Kenmaaaa! Are you listening to me?” 

Kenma looked up at his screen at the whine of his name, breaking his thoughtless gaze at the corner of his laptop. He blinked, as though to gain a sense of his surroundings once more, before letting out a hum of acknowledgement to his ginger haired friend. “Yeah, sorry.” The blond murmured, lightly shaking his hair from his eyes. 

Hinata did not seem convinced however, sitting up in his desk chair properly. “Are you okay?” He asked, slower and much quieter than his usual tone of voice. 

Kenma simply nodded, drawing his legs closer to him. “I’m fine sho” He answered, whether Hinata would choose to believe it or not was down to him, and by the look in his eyes Kenma could tell that Hinata did not believe him. 

As airheaded as the sunshine boy may seem, he was surprisingly good at knowing when something was off about the people close to him. What was just as ‘surprising’ was how he went about providing help or comfort. Kenma had to admit, Hinata got used to people fairly quickly. It was something Kenma was both in awe and admirant about. 

“Colour?” asked the boy who could contend with the sun’s brightness. 

“Green” answered Kenma, leaning his chin against his arms. 

“Number?” 

“6 as usual” 

“Big scary guy?”   _ Was he something to do with it? _

Kenma paused, blinking at the question. He glanced up to see a hint of a smile on Hinata’s otherwise concerned face, Kenma couldn’t help the breath of a chuckle which escaped him. He was being cautious of the fact Kageyama was in the room. 

“He’s not scary...he’s just a tall guy with a mysterious look” Kenma started, “who acts pretty stupid sometimes.” He added after a few seconds. Kenma didn’t exactly keep tabs on how long he’s stayed in these dorms for but he knew for sure his words were true, he had grown accustomed to Kuroo long enough to figure this out at least. 

“Sounds like bakayama” A loud thump was heard before Hinata let out a cry, “ow!” Kenma knew he was talking to the blackhaired boy off screen. He and Kageyama were supposedly studying before Hinata decided to video call the faux blond late in the evening. Frankly, Kenma is surprised Kageyama didn’t put up more of a fight to stop him. 

Then again, Kageyama was a lot nicer than Kenma thought he would be. From Hinata’s first messages of the man it made him out to be an awful guy with a foul mouth who bullied him to no ends, Kenma would like to say it surprised him when they began to date but he saw the changes in the updates Hinata would give. The sunshine boy’s words were only true to some extent, Kageyama was polite as he could to Kenma with Hinata around. He was quiet when they would talk and often gave them space, Kenma decided he didn’t mind Kageyama. 

“Hmph stupidyama, that hurt” Hinata pouted, turning back to the screen. He could be intimidating sometimes, with the intensity of his stares which sent a stutter through your heart. For a brief moment, those sharp eyes were on him, scanning him, reading him. Kenma knew he was unlikely to come to a proper conclusion, that was just how he was, and yet his breath caught in his chest. 

Hinata knew of his anxiety, how he felt around people and the different stages he went through during the day. Kenma had told him this quite early on in their friendship, it was something Hinata had adapted to quite quickly as well. He started to notice the signs of a bad day or growing tension inside of the blond, he knew when to ask and when to simply take his mind off it. This didn’t surprise Kenma, after all he does message Hinata throughout the day so it was only expected that he would tell him of this morning’s bad start. 

With one final look, Hinata withdrew his gaze.  _ Are you sure you’re okay?  _

Kenma nodded, offering a small reassuring smile. Hinata beamed in reply, pulling out his phone with new found enthusiasm. It was newer than the one he had a few years back, Kenma wondered if he had gotten it for the purpose of being able to play games and use social media or if he had simply bugged his parents to upgrade. “Anyway! I was going to send you these cat videos I saw on youtube right, but sensei almost took my phone away so I had to wait and forgot.” Of course he would do this in class. 

_ “Serves you right, dumbass.” _ Kenma stifled a laugh at the distant sound of Kageyama in the background. 

Hinata seemed to ignore his words, “I’ll send them later because guess what, guess what?!” 

Kenma hummed, fingers drumming lightly against his leg. He could feel his energy restoring just by being in his friend’s presence, it was somewhat refreshing after the day he had faced. Somewhere in his mind a brief thought of where Kuroo was and what he could be doing, in a flash it was gone replaced by what Hinata was saying in front of him. 

“I’m coming to tokyo!!” exclaimed the ginger, with a slight bounce of excitement in his seat. 

Kenma’s eyes widened, the news causing him to sit up. “Why?” He didn’t mean for it to sound as rude as it did, of course Hinata knew this as he grinned brightly spinning in his chair.

“For a practice match! Isn’t it cool?! We get to practice with university students!” He certainly sounded as excited as he looked. “Kenma, Kenma! We should meet up again beforehand! It’s been way too long.” Hinata continued, “You can finally meet yamayama-kun too!” 

Part of Kenma stiffened at the thought of meeting his best friend’s boyfriend before he remembered the few times they’ve spoken to each other, it couldn’t be too different in real life, could it? Hinata was right, it had been too long and Kenma couldn’t deny that he hadn’t begun to miss the small ginger male. 

He decided not to think about the fact they would most likely be playing Kuroo and his friends, or the words the said man had told him after practice had ended not long ago. 

 

_ “I suppose I am playing a little more seriously now that I’m with my friends. Some of us didn’t really make it to the national stage so I guess a small part of us wants to get there together.”  _

_ “It sucked for Yaku and I because we never really had a real setter on the team, Oikawa really saved our butts here.”  _

_ Never really had a real setter.  _

_ A setter like you.  _

 

“Yeah” murmured Kenma after a few seconds, another small smile tugging at his lips. “Let me know when.” 

“Of course!” grinned Hinata, leaning forward in his seat once again. That boy could never sit still. “Kenmaaa” 

“Shoyoouu” 

Hinata had that look of curiosity in his eyes again, the one which showed he was determined to know an answer. “You never told me how things are going over there” 

Once again Kenma paused, his fingers had long stopped drumming against his legs by now. A lot has happened in the time he has been here,  _ too much _ had happened in the time he has been here. It was overwhelming in the very least, the surge of emotions which hit him upon seeing Kuroo the first day he moved in. The conflict in his head as the awkwardness loomed over them, the regret, pain and guilt in his stomach when he asked the question which had been playing in his head since they were reunited. 

He was relieved, so, so relieved to hear Kuroo didn’t hate him. Yet he couldn’t help but think he didn’t deserve his kindness, he didn’t deserve his friendship, but what could he do? If he kept bringing the topic up something is bound to go wrong between them once again, truths are bound to be unravelled and Kenma didn’t think he was ready to go through such a thing right now. As conflicted as he felt, he knew having Kuroo here was better than the dark time in which he was not. 

Kuroo thought of him as a friend but was he allowing him to be selfish once again? Could Kenma allow himself to indulge in the part of him which wanted Kuroo to himself? 

He  _ had  _ to think about Kuroo. Oh how ironic that sounded when all Kenma could do was think of Kuroo, his ridiculously styled hair, his annoyingly loveable laugh, his ambitions- 

His stomach twisted then fluttered, Kenma frowned and slowly brought his hand down to tame it. 

 

_ “You remind me of one of the characters.” _

_ “They tried everything they could to bring them back and avoid the reality of what had happened.” _

_ Inner turmoil you must get past,  _

_ before you will find that certainty you long for, of what you really feel. _

 

He needed to hold himself back, to avoid the trap of an endless cycle of stupid mistakes. He needed to, but he would let himself go for Kuroo. Just a little bit. To make up for all he had done, all he had caused. 

And for that he would ignore these feelings, he would live up to this second chance. 

He would gain his best friend back. 

So Kenma shrugged, as nonchalantly as he normally would, brushing off his thoughts, his fears and insecurities. “Things are getting better.” 

He would prove that wasn’t a lie. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The number scale and colour system is something I've looked into which helps put some sort of measure on anxiety, of course it's not accurate and won't be mentioned in too much detail in this fic but I find the idea of it helpful :)


	6. Chapter 6

It was hot under the relentless rays of the sun, yet there was a slight drift of cool air which made the heat worth it. Oikawa remembered this because it was the perfect weather to go on the date he planned later on. 

There was a bounce to his step as Oikawa made his way to the train station, the light breeze blowing his hair this way and that way in front of his glasses which shielded his eyes. He didn’t think to brush it out of his view, nor was he bothered by it as he weaved his way through people departing the station. 

The day had finally come. After nights of finding the right time to call, days of wondering what it would be like to be together again, and minutes of being scolded for talking so much about his other half. The day had finally come. 

Part of Oikawa wondered if he was being too dramatic, if he was making a bigger deal of not being together 24/7 than he needed to be. A larger part of him countered that it was valid when he spent so many years by his side. It never got easier; the distance between them. Even if time had long passed since they first parted ways to continue their education, there was still a part of him left empty and gaping when Iwaizumi left. 

 

_“I couldn’t be prouder to have you as a partner, and you’re the absolute best setter.”_

_“Even if we end up on different teams those facts will never change.”_

_He didn’t like the redness surrounding his eyes, or the emotions which swirled beneath them and his words. He didn’t like the way his knees threatened to buckle and throw him to the ground at the announcement that Iwaizumi was proud of him. He_ hated _the pounding of his heart, clawing against his rib cage as he himself tried to keep his emotions at bay._

_Different teams, huh?_

_He already knew that they wouldn’t be attending the same university in the near future, he knew that this was the time where they would part ways, but he didn’t expect for Iwaizumi to declare such a statement. And now, now, thousands of mixed feelings erupted within him but all he could do was smile and keep a composed outer look._  

02:09 pm. 

He was early. Meaning somewhere along the lines of his eagerness to see Iwaizumi again his movements had gotten faster. Oikawa shrugged, brushing off his insufficient time management skills with a small laugh to himself. An hour or so would fly by, he thought as he made his way over to a nearby coffee shop with flowers in hand. 

 

_“Remember you can’t call me for random shit at stupid times.”_

_“I don’t do that anyway!”_

_“Yeah I know, you come pester me in person instead.” But you can’t do that now. “Focus in your classes and don’t send me ridiculous snaps or stay up drinking or something.”_

_“Iwa-chan are you my mom?”_

_“I won’t hesitate to get on this train and not kiss you goodbye.” I know you wouldn’t._

_“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry, I’ll die if you don’t kiss me before you leave!”_

_Iwaizumi snickered quietly, soon drowned out by the train incoming from afar. Oikawa bit his lip, heart dropping in his chest as reality slowly started to sink in._

_“Hey, it’ll work out.” Said Iwaizumi, lightly pulling his cheek. He forced a smile._

_“Yeah, I know.”_

03.01 pm. 

Oikawa removed his earphones, stopping the playlist Hanamaki and Matsukawa had jokingly made him with the intention of him hating it. The joke backfired on them when they realised Oikawa found the songs incredibly catchy, much to their dismay. 

Only half an hour left, he thought picking up the flowers, his heart jumped happily in his chest; his brain slowly registering what will occur very soon. Thirty minutes was an acceptable amount of time to wait at the station without seeming lame, Oikawa decided as he made his way out of the coffee shop sending a charming smile towards the waitress on his way out.  

_“Give me a minute”_

_“But you’ve been typing more words than you have been saying to me! This conversation is rather one sided.”_

_“As it normally is.”_

_The typing stopped at the sound of an ‘offended’ gasp; Iwaizumi looked away from the essay he was typing in favour of looking at the pretty setter on the top right hand corner of his screen. The said pretty setter had a look which matched his gasp. “Are you saying you don’t listen to me when I talk to you Iwa-chan?”_

_Iwaizumi sighed guiltily at the hurt tone in his boyfriend’s voice, his pout didn’t make it any better. “Of course I do, dummy.”_

_“Then what did I say?” Oikawa questioned._

_“You were talking about how Bokuto walked into a pole or something.” Iwaizumi wanted to hate the way Oikawa perked up once more, all ‘hurt’ seemingly forgotten. He had fallen for Oikawa’s guilt trap yet again; he rolled his eyes._

_The typing resumed, as did Oikawa’s ‘one sided’ ramble of this thing, that thing and everything. It was only when he fell silent that Iwaizumi looked up at the man once again, “What’s wrong?”_

_“Nothing~” Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes. “Tomorrow.” Said Oikawa, with a smile Iwaizumi had come to see more often since they parted ways._

_“Tomorrow.”_

His foot tapped in a steady rhythm against the ground, flowers grasped in both hands as he blankly watched people pass by the bench he was sitting on. His mind was elsewhere, planning what they could be doing if he were here right now, thinking about the first time he left, their conversation the night before. 

Train stations were unnecessarily loud, Oikawa concluded once a particularly loud squeal abruptly pulled him from his thoughts. He didn’t bother to look over at where it came from, it sounded much like a girl had just been reunited with a loved one – soon he would feel the same. Oikawa did, however, smile at the old couple who looked him up and down. 

“The lucky lady will be happy to see such a fine young man like yourself.” Said the old woman, returning a warm genuine smile.

Oikawa’s own smile threatened to falter and morphed into that of a forced one at the twisted feeling inside of him, “Thank you!” he replied, he was excited enough to not let the assumption bother him as the couple walked off. 

It was then that Oikawa realised the train that was now in front of him, piecing the squeal and the sudden loudness together. Eyes widening, Oikawa quickly stood looking around the busy platform. His height allowed him some advantage to see over people, his heart now kicking up a notch as it too realised what this meant. 

Yet more and more people began to dissipate leaving the platform barer until only a few people stood awaiting the next train or greeting those who waited for them, and the train took off. Frowning, Oikawa scanned the area once more checking the board. He was sure that was Iwaizumi’s train, he noted it down as soon as the man told him the time he would be boarding. 

Swallowing, Oikawa reached into his pocket to check the time. 03.36 pm. _Where is he?_

“Excuse me.” 

A man turned around, his blank and seemingly bored expression lifting into a more welcoming one. “Yes?” 

Oikawa couldn’t resist the urge to glance around the platform once again before looking back to the member of staff in front of him, “Has an earlier train come beforehand?” He asked, sucking on the inside of his cheek. 

“From the same place as the one just gone?” Oikawa nodded. “There was one at around 1.40, son.” Said the man, “If you stick around the next one won’t be long.” 

Why did I bother? Oikawa thought, He would have let me know if he arrived earlier. “Thank you.” He replied, offering another partly forced smile. He waited until he was alone to look at his phone yet again. No new messages from Iwaizumi, nothing since they had talked briefly this morning. 

He scrolled past the group messages from Kuroo and Bokuto, and the notifications for his social media, before clicking Iwaizumi’s contact and typing a message. 

He probably just missed it; Oikawa mused quietly taking a seat back on the bench. His foot resumed its tapping, bouncing irregularly. 

04.15 pm. 

04.30 pm. 

04.54 pm. 

Another train arrived. Oikawa stood, the flowers in hold beginning to agitate his hands. More people flood from the train, filling the platform with a sudden rush of noise. He used his height to his advantage once again, peering over the swarm of bodies boarding and leaving the train. 

_Please, Please, Please._

He swallowed, breathed in but didn’t release. Yet again bodies begin to dissipate, and only a few remain on platform. Oikawa hated the way his heart plummeted; he hated the way his body forced him to release the breath he had been holding in. He hated that Iwaizumi was nowhere in sight. 

He couldn’t have missed two trains, Oikawa thought. He looked down, his phone displaying no new messages from the man in waiting. He frowned, new concerns rising within him. If he hadn’t missed the train, then what? What else could have happened? What could cause him not to answer his messages? 

“Are you okay?” 

Oikawa jumped, his body jolting slightly at the sound of a voice in front of him. There was a look of worry in the lady’s eyes, Oikawa briefly wondered what he must look like to those around him. He could think of a hundred things he could possibly tell this woman in front of him, but instead settled for one. 

“I’m fine, my partner is just running late.” He hoped his smile was convincing, it always seemed to work when he needed it. Another part of him hoped his words to be true.

05.17 pm. 

Oikawa was beginning to lose hope of Iwaizumi turning up, he was sure the members of staff around him were beginning to pity him too. Their sympathetic glances every once in a while, being a key indicator. If they didn’t ask if he was okay, then he’s sure they would ask him to leave. 

He wondered how incredibly lame he must look sat out here for hours waiting on someone who never turned up. 

05.22 pm. 

The empty void caused by the distance between them burned, sending a painful flare throughout him. Iwaizumi wasn’t here, Iwaizumi wouldn’t be coming. He struggled to breathe in but forced a breath out. Disappointment, anger, upset, worry – swirled around his head slushing against his skull – his very being. 

He began to walk away, it felt as though his hand was numb with the flowers in hold. He doesn’t spare the staff another look, he didn’t want their pity. 

At the buzz of his phone he glanced down, heart skipping a beat at the name which lit up his phone. 

**From: Hajime ♡**

_ >> I’m so sorry Tooru _

_ >> I got caught up with something _

_ >> I’ll try my best to get there as soon as possible _

His worries of something being wrong with Iwaizumi slowly faded out but annoyance soon took its place, followed by a not so foreign feeling of sadness. Iwaizumi was okay, but he wasn’t here. 

Oikawa pocketed his phone.

_~_~_~_

 

There was something else about the silence which seemed to strike Kenma at the oddest moments, he found. If he didn’t hate it because of the itch of discomfort which irritated him, or the memories of back then, then he hated it because of the anxious, surprised feeling which built inside of him depending on the situation. 

Neither of them expected what was on the other side of the door when it opened, a heavy silence looming over the room as the two stared at one another. This was one of those times in which Kenma found the silence to bring surprise instead of sadness, as he stood in the middle of his kitchen which a plate of food in hand and the other mid way to his mouth. 

 _That’s right._ Thought the other, _he really couldn’t keep entering Kuroo’s dorm like this anymore._ Oikawa grimaced at his own stupidity, a somewhat apologetic and amused smile painting over his lips. Poor Kenma stood in the middle of his own kitchen like a deer caught in a car's headlights, his small surprised body covered by what looked like pacman pyjamas. It was cute, in a sense. 

“Ah, sorry Pudding Head. Is Kuroo-chan around?”

Kenma lowered his fork, his eyes briefly scanning over Oikawa. “No, not yet.” He answered. There was something clearly off about his smile; his mood. Kenma thought back to the first time they had met, how radiant the ‘handsome stranger’s smile was. Oikawa seemed just as glum and tired the second time they met, if anything he looked worse now despite being dressed up. It was almost hard to get a sense of his character when every time they would meet the man seemed different. Kenma almost felt compelled to ask if he was okay; so he did. “Umm...are you okay?” 

Oikawa smiled sheepishly, whether it was real or forced remained lost in the silence which echoed in the air. “I am A-okay!” He replied, raising his free hand to make an okay hand sign. “I suppose I better leave you to your food then, see ya around Pudding head!”

Kenma’s eyes lingered on Oikawa as he turned to leave, part of him annoyed by the extensive use of pudding head and another somewhat concerned for the man. A faint sigh escaped his lips, “You can stay.” Kenma called, almost immediately regretting his words. “If you want…” 

Oikawa paused, the chuckle which left his mouth sounding more like an exhale of breath than anything. “I have neglected work waiting for me.” He claimed, giving the faux blonde another smile over his shoulder. “Here, a moving in gift.” 

Kenma blinked as flowers were tossed his way, hand instinctively reaching forward to grab them.  “Nice catch. Good thing setter intuition didn’t kick in~” Kenma’s brows furrowed; how did he know? 

“Or maybe you’d just make a good bride.” Joked Oikawa, the teasing and playful smile Kenma was first greeted with returning to his lips. “See ya, Pudding Head.” 

With that Oikawa winked and closed the door behind him, leaving Kenma with a whirlwind of thoughts. 

_~_~_

 

“I’m back.” 

It wasn’t a loud announcement but Kuroo didn’t usually expect anything in reply to his greeting as he entered his dorm, not since he (apparently) ‘banned’ Bokuto and Oikawa from entering freely. Part of Kuroo was surprised they listened to him, whilst a larger part of him was surprised they were being considerate of the fact that he now had a roommate. He wondered if he thought of his friends too lowly. 

At the sound of a murmured ‘Welcome back’ Kuroo stilled, the door clicked closed behind him from a light kick of his foot. Kenma. He’s not in his room, thought Kuroo before a small smile tugged at his lips. 

 _Oh right, things are better now._ There was no longer any awkwardness between them, ones that made his skin crawl and his mind explode from thinking of things to say or do to break this foreignness between them, there was no longer any tension which filled the air and pressed down on them like a heavy weight on their shoulders; Kenma had finally settled in.

Kuroo smiled wider, shrugging off his jacket as he made his way further into the room. The TV light illuminating the room was something he was used to from the many times he had returned to either Bokuto or Oikawa on his couch, it was a nice change for it to be Kenma watching it instead. He probably had his feet tucked close to his body and a game in hand. 

“Have you eaten?” Kuroo could now ask without building up the question over and over in his head, Kenma almost always let out some sort of affirmative sound or let silence tell Kuroo the answer. 

“Mmm” _I’ll take that as a yes._

 

“Oikawa came by.” Murmured Kenma, once Kuroo returned from his room now in comfortable clothing and freshly showered. Kuroo perked at his words, a small eye roll of expectancy and annoyance following suit. “Are you two friends?” 

“Yeah, unfortunately.” Kuroo replied, Kenma slowly looked over at him. As previously thought, the faux blonde held his phone in hands doing what he loved most. Really, Kenma was still the same boy he hung out with everyday all those years ago. The one who would plan his next game rather than go out and interact with others. Kuroo couldn’t help his smile, it was all he could do to ease the tightness in his chest at childhood memories. 

Kenma tilted his head, it was a cute action when it was Kenma who was doing it; as was a lot of things. 

“He’s a good guy,” Kuroo started, drying his wet hair. “he’s just annoying sometimes, and by sometimes I mean _all the time._ ” 

Kenma stifled a laugh at that, and Kuroo had to stop his heart from leaping out of his chest at the sound. 

 _It’s probably because I haven't seen him in years_ , he thought, and dismissed the feeling after a few seconds.

“Why was he here, do you know?” He asked. 

Kenma shook his head, his gaze returning to his phone. It was then that Kuroo noticed the pacman pyjamas he was wearing and bit back a laugh of his own; _a true gamer._

“He seemed upset.” said Kenma, breaking his thoughts. Kuroo’s amusement morphed into that of confusion. Wasn’t he meant to meet Iwaizumi today?

Kuroo pulled out his phone, “I’m gonna go over.” he said aloud, noting the short nod he received in reply as he typed out a message. He spared his roommate one last glance before slipping on his shoes and heading out.

 

_~_~_~_

 

“Your place is a shit hole.” 

Oikawa made no effort of peering over his couch to confirm who it was who had entered his dorm. There was a further sound of shuffling by his door as he assumed his nest-haired friend kicked off his shoes, He hummed: 

“Why thank you, I was going for a Kuroo-chan-like aesthetic.” Oikawa chuckled faintly at the sound which left Kuroo as he came into view at the end of his couch. 

“I hate you” replied the said man, a half hearted glare forming on his face. Oikawa knew him well enough by now to determine his real glares and his fake ones, this one, he concluded was in between. As though he couldn’t decide whether to be mad at his joke or not. 

“It’s not often my enemies enter my house unannounced.” he mused, shifting so he lay on his side once more. He could feel Kuroo’s eyes on him. 

“I wish I could say the same for you.” Kuroo replied without a beat, it was clear he was referring to the many times Oikawa and Bokuto made themselves at home in his dorm. Kuroo’s glare softened after a few seconds, the frown lines fading as his expression shifted to that of a neutral concern. Kenma was right, he thought. Tooru did seem upset, even through his maintained ~~(annoying)~~ teasing voice and half smile. 

“Mean Tetsu-chan.” Oikawa whined, Kuroo noted the way his annoyingly pretty friend’s glasses sat crookedly on his face. There was a pillow between his arms, and some random show playing on his TV. Despite being dressed up nicely, there was something obviously off about him. 

Kuroo sighed brushing aside paperwork scattered across the coffee table before taking a seat. 

“You’re gonna break my coffee table.” The uni student commented, receiving an instant eye roll in return. 

“What? Jealous that I have an ass and you don’t?” Kuroo retorted, a smug smirk resting on his lips as an indignant squawk left Oikawa’s. 

“I do have an ass thank you very much! What else would Iwa-chan g-” 

“Oookay.”

Oikawa huffed as childishly as he looked, slumping against his cushions once more. He seemed amused though, Kuroo mentally cheered at his achievement, it was the least he could do to lift the dejected look from Oikawa’s eyes. 

“You gonna tell me the reason why you’re here alone or am I gonna have to force it out of you?” 

“I have my lawyer on speed dial.” 

Kuroo spluttered, brows furrowed in confusion. “W-What-h--Why would you even need a lawyer?” he asked, better yet why does he supposedly _have_ a lawyer. 

“You never know what might happen with perverted beasts like you.” The man tittered, his glasses fell further down his face.  Suddenly, Kuroo was standing over him with a look of mock offense but then he smirked and that alone sent a wave of uneasiness through the setter because Kuroo shook his head, spraying droplets of water _all over Oikawa._

 

“I come bearing gift--oh it’s one of those nights?” 

The pair froze, Oikawa’s wrists trapped beneath Kuroo’s hands as Kuroo caged him in. Oikawa could just about make out Bokuto’s figure in his doorway over Kuroo’s shoulders. 

“Owl-chan get him off meee--what do you mean one of those nights?!” 

Bokuto chortled, kicking off his shoes as Kuroo shoved Oikawa’s feet to make room for him to sit down. “I brought food, the comfort bear and myself!” Bokuto announced, ignoring his friend’s question. Oikawa wiped his face, kicking the black haired male. 

“You didn’t disturb Kenma did you?” asked Kuroo, parting his legs for Bokuto to take a seat on the ground. After the first time the two had met, Kuroo wondered if it was really a good idea to ask Bo to stop by his dorm on the way over. 

“Nope, didn’t see him” replied Bokuto, leaning back against Kuroo once he had grabbed the TV remote. 

He tossed the bag of snacks over his shoulder, hitting Kuroo in the face, which resulted in an upward smack to the back of his head. Bickering filled the room between the two as Bokuto whined about being smacked, Oikawa whined about the crappy American show Bokuto had chosen, and Kuroo commented on the food choices, until eventually the trio fell into a comfortable silence for a short while. 

 

“Iwa-chan didn’t come.” 

In the corner of his eye Kuroo could see the fluffy haired man watching the show Bokuto picked out despite the fuss he had put up about it earlier. Really, he had already connected the dots. 

“I waited all day and he didn’t message until I left.” 

Bokuto frowned, and Oikawa decided a frown didn’t look good on the owl-like man’s face for reasons other than his own childish antics. “That sucks” To anyone else it wouldn’t sound very sympathetic, but this was Bokuto his tone of voice and expression said it all. “You were so hyped about it too.” 

Kuroo’s eyes lingered on Oikawa before he went back to lightly drumming on Bokuto’s _surprisingly_ soft hair. “Did he tell you why?” 

“Probably.” He replied. Probably?

Kuroo concluded that Oikawa probably didn’t check his phone after the message he received, it was stupid but valid he supposed. Oikawa was an odd character.

 

Silence further hung over the room, interrupted every once in awhile by the rumble of snack packet or the crunch of someone eating. Somehow they were comfortable tangled together in the darkness, sometimes it meant just being there when it came to Oikawa. He didn’t like to be told what to do or say, and listening to people come up with alternate reasons didn’t resonate well with him either. He’d listen when he wanted to, you’d sway him eventually, whether it be through force or words. Oikawa truly was an odd character.  

 

“What if...Kenma acted in the stereotypical gay way?” Bokuto was an even odder character. 

“Wh-You can’t just _assume_ Kenma is gay. Where did that even come from?” 

Bokuto tilted his head back to meet Kuroo’s eyes. “I don’t know dude, who wouldn’t be gay when they’re living with you.” 

“ _Bro…_ ” 

 

“I could name a few thousand people.” Oikawa interrupted, keeping an innocent expression as Kuroo sent a glare his way. 

“What if we all acted in the stereotypical gay way?” Bokuto continued before either of the two could start anything. Kuroo raised an eyebrow at Bokuto’s spontaneous questions, watching as he lifted his drink to his lips. It sounded like something you would ask when you were drunk, then again Kuroo couldn’t deny that he hasn’t felt like he was drunk when around them sometimes. 

“I mean, Oikawa already does,” Kuroo replied nonetheless, snickering at Oikawa’s ‘offended’ gasp. Still, the setter smiled faintly (despite the pout on his lips) letting his body sink further into his couch. 

Bokuto continued to ask random questions, followed by retorts and shut downs from Kuroo until tiredness took over and silence fell upon the room once more. 

 

_Forgive me, Iwa-chan._

 

Oikawa let his eyes fall shut. He was grateful, at least, for Bokuto and Kuroo’s presence. 


	7. Chapter 7

“Bokuto-san.” 

Akaashi didn’t mean for it to come off as shocked as it did, except it was exactly how he felt. It was probably evident in the way he stood frozen by the door of the bookstore, hand still lightly grasping the handle as the ring of the bell lingered in his ears. His eyes were probably the slightest bit wider, but he knew for sure that his lips were still parted. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” 

Bokuto however didn’t seem to notice his shock, Akaashi took it as his chance to compose himself once more. 

“I’m on time!” Bokuto said, as though it wasn’t obvious already. Akaashi couldn’t find it in him to mind this fact when Bokuto wore his contagious wide grin of his; on his seemingly excited face. 

For someone who had just come from practice, Bokuto didn’t look affected by the sun above them or running and jumping around. Akaashi briefly wondered if he managed to get a shower in before racing over to meet him at work. 

“Well done.” There were probably better ways to reply to Bokuto’s happiness of being on time, yet the volleyball player seemed pleased with such a response. Akaashi smiled faintly, stepping away from the door. 

He never did mind when Bokuto was late, it gave him time to get out of his work mindset and into one that was ready for Bokuto’s enthusiasm, and yet the man always  _ tried _ to get there on time despite  _ still _ being late. It was amusing in the very least. 

“Shall we get going?” 

Bokuto didn’t need to be told twice. Akaashi found there would always be a leading trait to Bokuto despite how he seemed, the part of him which would arise in tough times and reassure you in seconds that things would work out. He would never forget the captain he saw in Bokuto when he left along with the third years. His confidence and grins as he passed on good wishes and cheers to win nationals, he still walked with confidence and smiled with warmth. Akaashi almost forgot to follow. 

He upped his pace to catch up with the man’s long strides as he walked with a form of bounce in his step, it was only now that Akaashi realised Bokuto was well into another one of his ‘one sided conversations’ in which he would talk at you rather than to you. He suppressed a quiet laugh.

 

“Hey, hey did I tell you I met Kuroo’s roommate?” 

Akaashi looked up from his mindless stare towards Bokuto’s back to meet the gaze sent over his shoulder. It had been a while since Bokuto had mentioned Kuroo’s ‘mystery’ roommate, he always had a different story to tell. Akaashi shook his head, “No I don’t believe you have.” 

“He came to practice a while ago!” Bokuto started, he swung his bag over his shoulder as if to keep it out his way. Akaashi was glad he kept a small distance between them, or he would have been victim to the said bag. 

He hummed, in both thought and a sign for Bokuto to continue. Kenma had never mentioned wanting to get back into volleyball since he parted ways from Kuroo, had they truly worked things out between them now? Akaashi could only hope so.

“I think his name is Kenta…? He’s kinda cute.” Bokuto paused as he tried to think of the name, Akaashi almost wanted to chuckle at the way he raised his fingers to his chin but faltered at the mention of cute. 

“Kenma” He corrected, letting a small smile slip at the surprise on Bokuto’s face. He had to admit, Kenma  _ was _ cute at times and his outward appearance would certainly come off cute if not weird. Akaashi bit his lip and brushed off the odd feeling which came with his words. 

“Yeah Kenma that’s it! How did—Akaaaaashi!” Bokuto seemed to pout in the slightest, the light in his eyes dulling in his disappointment. 

He didn’t need to finish his whining for Akaashi to know what he was getting at, “Sorry Bokuto-san, Kenma-san and I have been friends for a good few years now.” He smiled apologetically, then raised an eyebrow at the lack of sadness at the revelation. 

“Did you know he was Kuroo’s roommate this wholetime? Hey if you know him already that means we could hang all hang out together.” Bokuto’s grin returned at his own suggestion, “Then Kuroo can’t say no because Kenma knows you and I can know Kenma better!” 

‘This is the greatest idea ever’ Is what Bokuto’s tone said, his posture said no different as he stood proudly with his hands on his hips. Ah, Kenma would be screwed.

“If Kenma-san is comfortable with it then by all means” Akaashi replied.  _ Sorry Kenma. _

 

For a while they walked without any real idea of where they were going, Bokuto continued to tell Akaashi about this thing, that thing, and anything whilst Akaashi continued to avoid the swinging of Bokuto’s bag. If there was one thing he picked on, it was the mention of Bokuto’s so called ‘random’ mini exam which involved maths; the one Akaashi recalled helping him out on. ‘I got 60%!’ Is what Akaashi heard, or at least hoped he heard. He might have congratulated him, but he was too caught up in thought to really remember what was being said currently.

_ It might be okay now  _

_ It’s not as though things have completely patched up between us.  _

A few weeks have passed since he last heard anything of the sort from Kenma, now that he thought about it. The few times they exchanged messages Kenma never seemed to be as uncomfortable as he was the first time he had moved in, Akaashi could only hope that meant they had sorted things between them if what Bokuto had said about him turning up to practice was true. Maybe another hang out was due. 

Thankfully, Akaashi snapped out of his thoughts before he could walk face first into Bokuto’s broad chest, he stopped and glanced up. “Bokuto-san?” He almost stilled under the intensity of Bokuto’s stare. There was no annoyance in those eyes, no dejection or anger. For once Akaashi couldn’t tell what was going through his mind or what he would do.

Bokuto reached forward, Akaashi’s eyes followed his hand’s movements until it disappeared over the top of his head. He stood confused until Bokuto drew his hand back to reveal a leaf, so green and vibrant that it couldn’t have fallen out of a tree. It was then that Akaashi realised where they were. 

There was silence for a few seconds, an awkward form of tension rising between them. In all the time Akaashi has known Bokuto, he couldn’t recall many times in which he has blushed this hard – especially in front of him. Akaashi wondered if he had a similar flush to his cheeks, he cleared his throat. “Thank you.” 

Bokuto nodded, placed the leaf back on a branch (as though it could grow attached back to the tree) and continued to walk. It didn’t take long for him to lighten the mood once more, Akaashi was grateful but his heart said a different story. 

Suddenly, Akaashi wasn’t sure he could survive the rest of their usual hang out. 

_~_~_

 

How long has it been since he moved in? By now the boxes which were scattered around his room had long cleared out and his room had maintained a somewhat clean state for once. He couldn’t say the same for Kuroo. Kenma’s room was evidence that it had been a while now, months even, everything had found a home on a shelf, in a corner or perched on top of a dresser. 

It was quiet, but not too quiet, and yet Kenma felt a sense of déjà vu. A few months ago he was pondering ways to escape the relentless silence which crawled up his skin and made him feel a stranger to himself, a few months ago he wanted to run away (something he is sure he would be good at by now), a few months ago he realised the biggest mistake of his life. A lot had changed in a few months, Kenma could never be sure how he felt about change. 

He was sat in front of his computer yet again, the screen bright in his dim room but he wasn’t typing – or doing anything in particular. He wasn’t sure how well he could multitask with his mother talking away on the phone by his ear; at least it filled the silence. The silence which had slowly grown to be more comfortable.  

He was so torn between listening to his mother and musing to himself that he didn’t hear the door to their dorm open, or the light call of “I’m home” faintly bouncing off the walls. The steps that would usually be heavy against their flooring might as well have been silent to Kenma, who jumped at the sound of knuckles brushing against his door. “Knock, knock.” 

Kenma didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, Kuroo let himself in regardless of an answer or not. He probably saw the light of his computer filling his room. 

“Ah.”

Kenma raised an eyebrow, his eyes racking up the man’s body who stood by his door. He was still dressed in the clothes he left in this morning and wore a look that could only be described as amazement if not disbelief. Kenma noted that he must not have gone to practice today. 

“Why do you look so surprised?” 

Kuroo blinked and chuckled quietly, his expression lightened as he ran his hand through his untameable hair. “No reason.” He replied, Kenma knew that answer was complete bs but didn’t comment any further. 

_ “Kenma?”  _

He glanced down at his phone, suddenly remembering what he was in the middle of doing before Kuroo walked in. “M’still here.” He murmured, gesturing with his hand for Kuroo to do as he pleased. 

‘Auntie?’ Kuroo mouthed, Kenma had yet to get used to the way Kuroo’s eyes brightened beneath half lidded gazes. He nodded, swallowing silently. Kuroo let a grin form on his face as he cupped his hands to his mouth: “Tell her I said Hi.” They both knew he said it loud enough for her to hear, that was just the kind of person Kuroo was. And Kuroo hadn’t changed all that much, he found, Kenma wondered if it was a blessing or a curse. 

_ “Oh my is that… Tetsurou?”  _

I forgot to tell her, Kenma thought, but did he really? It was hard enough accepting his own selfish desire of wanting his best friend back, it was hard enough just settling in to live here, it was hard enough admitting that he spent the majority of his life running away. Did he really want to tell his mother the person he was living with was Kuroo? After years of avoiding him without an explanation. Taking a breath suddenly felt heavy, confrontation wasn’t a good trait of his, but his mother was already urging him to pass over the phone. Kenma swallowed again and silently handed Kuroo his phone. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been talking to his mother prior to Kuroo’s entry but by now he was sure Kuroo had surpassed that time. He looked so…at home speaking to his mother, and Kenma couldn’t shake the weird feeling which crept up on him. Usually, he could make out what he was feeling, he could name it and identify the times it would arise.  _ Usually.  _ So why was it when he was around Kuroo a flurry of new emotions overcame him? Ones he couldn’t identify as it felt combined and forced together to form one emotion.

Kuroo’s laugh sounded better than his awkward stutters of questions he should have been able to ask without a care, Kuroo’s smile looked better than his face furrowed in dejection or concern. Kuroo was better when he had his lazy expression and disgustingly contagious laugh (that Kenma was sure he didn’t have when they were younger). Words could not describe his newfound relief that he got to see this more often than not since he decided to give in to his selfishness and ignore the parts of him gnawing at his fears. 

And for a while, Kenma forgot there was something wrong between them because they had grown that comfortable again. They had fallen into a routine, picked up on each other’s traits and habits. Kuroo wasn’t as much as a stranger as Kenma thought him to be. He was still the dorky, surprisingly smart, and weird guy he knew back then. The only difference was he was older, wiser and not so much shy or timid. Kuroo aged well, Kenma thought, even if he did speak like the old man his name suggested. 

He preferred this to the silence, the looming tension. He preferred this to the awkwardness, the solemn looks shared between them. Kenma wondered if this is what it would have been like had he not ran away. He sighed.

“Auntie says she’s glad you live with me” Kuroo smirked, after some time. He lightly tossed Kenma’s phone back to the faux blonde and rolled onto his stomach on the said man’s bed. “Says she’s glad I’m home. I always was the favourite child.”

Kenma rolled his eyes, “Sure she did” he murmured, placing his phone on his desk. He knew he was teasing; anyone could hear it in his voice, and yet he felt heavy once again. ‘ _ Glad I’m home’.  _ He sucked on his tongue, toes wriggling beneath his body. He knew exactly what she meant. 

“Anyway she has my number now so I can update her on  _ everything  _ you do. I wonder what you would do without me.” Kuroo continued, his (stupid) face still held that lazy crooked smirk with his chin propped up by his hands. 

Kenma sent a half hearted glare over his shoulder, “Plenty.” He answered, turning his gaze back to his screen. 

“I cook for you!” 

“You should do the laundry too.” Kenma bit back a snicker at the small sound of mock offense Kuroo gave in reply, he began to type once again. 

“I do everything for you, and you want me to do the  _ laundry  _ too? Do I look like a wife?” Kuroo clearly exaggerated his words to add to his dramatic act, that Kenma was sure was a part of who is when he was around him. 

He didn’t take his eyes off the screen as he shot back a reply, “Do I?” he asked, referring to Kuroo’s earlier comment of being wife material a while back. 

Kuroo chuckled, he made the right decision not to sass back an answer. “I mean what’s better clothes or food?” 

“Clothes. That way I still have something decent to wear to go buy food when you’re not here.” 

“But if you have food all the time you won’t have to go out and buy food.” 

Kenma stopped typing, brows furrowing when he realised he had been caught out. A pout threatened to tug at his lips as pink dusted over his cheeks. “Shut up.” Kuroo laughed that ugly laugh and Kenma found it truly was better this way. 

“You know, I’m surprised you’re working so hard.” 

Kuroo spoke up after a short while, it was then that Kenma pieced together the disbelief on his face as he entered the room along with his words. Did Kuroo not think he was capable of working? 

“It keeps me busy.”  _ From my thoughts.  _

They go back to a mutual quietness after that, Kenma assumes Kuroo is watching some kpop group on his phone from the sounds of the music. The screen in front of him became a blur some time ago, Kenma simply continued to type for the sake of trying to get  _ something  _ done but he was sure it was probably just nonsense. 

He sighed, saving it regardless, and shut it down. With Kuroo on his bed, Kenma reached for his nearest handheld console and loaded it up. He was comfortable, but not comfortable enough to be so close.

“Oh did I tell you Bokuto was spamming me earlier? He’s the big buff idiot, the one that called you short, looks like an owl.” 

Kenma had gathered who it was just from the name Bokuto but didn’t say anything about the way went on to insult his friends, he knew they were empty insults anyway. Still, he frowned at the mention of short and shook his head. 

“Anyway he was going on about this guy I’m sure he likes but doesn’t realise it yet, apparently he got a leaf stuck in his hair and suddenly everything turned weird between them for a minute.” Kuroo went on to explain, “Sounds like something from a romance movie.” He snorted. 

Of course he would know, Kenma thought but hummed in response. He made a mental note to ask Akaashi whether it had been him or not. 

Suddenly Kuroo’s phone buzzed, catching both of their attention. Kenma was glad it didn’t ring and fill the air with that annoyingly catchy girl group Kuroo liked. 

He peered over his game as Kuroo read the message, his face contouring into that of a worried frown. 

“Haaaa I gotta go” Kuroo groaned, pushing himself up and off Kenma’s bed. “Oikawa’s being an idiot again, I brought back food if you want it. I’ll be back soon.” 

Kenma didn’t get much of a chance to reply before Kuroo was out of his room, the sound of the door closing followed not long after. Suddenly the room felt empty. 

Kenma sucked on his tongue. Kuroo never really mentioned Oikawa when he came back the afternoon after the man turned up, in all honesty Kenma had almost forgotten about the pretty man. 

He thought back to the flowers Oikawa gave him, the comment about his setter intuition. Just who was Oikawa, and how much did Kuroo speak of him to his friends?

_~_~_~_

 

Somewhere along the line, one drink became two and two became one to many.  

He was fine for the most part, he was still aware of the music blasting so loud that the building must be bouncing in time of the beats. He was still aware of the heat of the room, so humid from bodies dancing and people sweating, that he wanted nothing more than to strip or go outside. He was still aware of what lead him here to the first place. So surely, he was fine. 

Except the beat of the music and the overly loud chattering of drunk uni students were making his head pound, if you asked him his head was beginning to throb in time with the music. His drinks were slowly beginning to get to him, and it was growing increasingly harder to think of a new order every time. He wasn’t sure if it was the movement of the people that was making the room spin or if it was the drink, whichever it was he wanted it to stop. 

Oikawa put his head in his hands, the balls of his palms digging into his eyes as if to get rid of the blur. he could feel the bartender’s eyes on him as he wiped clean another glass, Oikawa guessed it was pity or concern laced in his stare. He didn’t want either, he was fine after all. 

Drinking really is sad when you do it alone. 

Oikawa sighed; his breath smelt of alcohol – a mixture of different ones he’s tried. Even he was sober enough to know it did not smell nice, he ignored it in favour of sitting up straight. Thankfully everyone seemed to be caught up in their own thing to notice him sat alone at the bar, he hoped they were all drunk enough not to remember he even came. 

“Hey—uhh” Oikawa paused, leaning forward to get a closer look at the bartender’s nametag. Perhaps he should have brought his glasses instead of chanced it with contacts. “Another one of these please.” He finished deciding not to address the poor guy.

“Are you sure you can manage?” The bartender asked, there was that look of concern once again. Oikawa almost wanted to roll his eyes but gave his charming smile instead. 

“I’m just fine thank you” His words were slurred but not to the point of being incomprehensible, his brows furrowed at this, but the smile remained on his face. The bartender hesitated, clearly, they had heard this too. 

“If the man wants a drink, get ‘im a drink”

Oikawa stilled at the sudden warmth to his back, the voice came out in puffs of alcohol filled air. He grimaced and leaned away from the stranger.  He smiled at the bartender who slid a drink his way, Oikawa wasn’t sure if it was to get the stranger off his back or if he gave in and complied to Oikawa’s request. Whichever it was, it didn’t stop him from drinking it through the fancy straw with the little umbrellas. 

“Got a name~?” 

Oh he’s still here, thought Oikawa. Doesn’t everyone? “Yup” He replied, he popped his ‘p’ and continued to face away from them. 

“Playing hard to get huh?” They asked, with a low chuckle. Oikawa guessed he came later than the other guys who had come to hit on him and promptly ran away once he was done. The only difference was, he had less to drink then and right now he was glad the drink had a straw so he wouldn’t have to lift his hand. 

“I’m taken.” He murmured; he knew it was the go-to option for when you were being hit on, but he wasn’t lying. Or at least he hoped he wouldn’t be. Suddenly his chest felt heavy, Oikawa wondered if it was the effects of the alcohol kicking in or the disappointment he felt a few days ago. 

“I don’t see anyone.” They continued, their arm reached out to wrap around his shoulders probably – if it went any lower, they would have gotten a punch and Oikawa couldn’t promise where. 

“Maybe you should try looking around.” 

Oikawa paused, straw part way to his lips. In the corner of his eyes he saw the stranger look between him and the person behind him before walking away defeated. Oikawa swallowed, “The great Oikawa-sama can handle himself, thank you very much.” 

“Why are you drinking the bar away on a Wednesday?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a drink on any day of the week.” Oikawa replied, finally sparing his friend a glance. Kuroo did not look the slightest bit amused, Oikawa reached for his drink again only to have his hand slapped away. “H-Hey!” A hiccup caught in his throat. 

There was a firm hand around his arm, hauling him up off the bar stool he had been glued to. His head slushed with it, the room tilting with every move. “K-Kuroo-chan I’m delicate!” 

“Thanks for watching him, Kai.”  _ So that was his name.  _

He stumbled as Kuroo led him out the club, the fresh air hit him like a smack to the face, but it was very much needed. He didn’t realise how much he had to drink until he noticed how hard it was to walk. 

Drinking alone really was sad.

“What the hell is up with you?” Silence was Kuroo’s answer, and Oikawa finally remembered why his heart felt so heavy and the reason he turned up there in the first place. 

Of course Iwaizumi would be having fun out there, of course the distance would be hard on their relationship. Of course Iwaizumi would get tired of him. Why didn’t he realise sooner?  _ How  _ didn’t he realise sooner? 

Iwaizumi deserved everything he ever wanted in life; Oikawa couldn’t blame him for wanting to have fun with someone else but he also couldn’t help this feeling within him.  

 


	8. Chapter 8

When he woke up, his surroundings were significantly quieter; he wondered if it was because of the white noise in his ears which rang so loud that it was enough to rise him out of his dreamless sleep. Oikawa wasn’t sure of how he felt, numbness washed through him that even rolling over seemed like a challenge. 

A hundred years had passed before his brain had finally crawled out of the water it was drowning in, or at least that was what it felt like to Oikawa who puffed a sigh and forced his eyes open. He was in his room, surprisingly, that would explain the comfyness of his bed and the warmth that had enveloped him. His brain was slow to catch up with the events of last night but a very visible cringe passed through him once he had. “Sorry, Tetsu-chan.” He croaked out, and oh he couldn’t go out sounding like that.

Was there really any point? Whatever time it was he was sure he had missed any lectures he had scheduled, that would come back to bite him in the ass. If he looked as awful as he felt then Oikawa would rather cling onto the last bit of dignity he had than ruin how everyone saw him. Part of Oikawa hoped that Kuroo wasn’t too annoyed at having to fetch him from the bar and would leave him be; a larger part of him knew his nest haired friend would stop at no means to get answers. 

Sitting up felt like climbing a mountain, his body was heavy with the weight of the alcohol finally kicking in. It was a shame that he felt it now rather than last night, it was a shame he still remembered the cause of his drinking in the first place. Drinking alone was sad but at least he was free from reasoning and the tightened feeling in his chest for a short time. 

Oikawa sighed once more, hefty and loud, then forced himself out of bed. He didn’t bother looking for his phone, he hadn’t bothered to check it since the day he returned from the train station alone. If Kuroo wasn’t here then he would surely be in his notifications, Oikawa could get away with ignoring it for a few more hours.

He knew his dorm well enough to walk without his glasses, lightly grasping door ledges and walls as he walked. Someone is here, he thought, suddenly becoming aware of the fact he was only in the shirt he was wearing last night and some plant themed boxers. He didn’t bother pondering how that came to be, instead Oikawa’s brows furrowed as he walked further into the room, “Tetsu-chan--?” 

 

Since living here, Oikawa would say he’s grown used to the silence of his dorm. Any calls, or loud sprouts of laughter heard from the otherside of his door only ceased to remind him that he wasn’t completely alone in this university. The silence grew louder since Kenma had moved in with Kuroo, and he could no longer crash there whenever he saw fit. It was weird, how one choice could lead to being miles and miles apart from the one person he could never see himself living without. Video calls weren’t the same, people change and clearly he was not good enough to be the only person of high importance in Iwaizumi’s life. 

So why? Why was he standing in his kitchen wearing that stupid apron Bokuto had bought for Oikawa as a ‘housewarming’ present, back turned to him as he whisked something with things he forgot he even had? 

Oikawa blinked, slowly as though he was expecting to wake up from a daydream. His mind was still hazy, eyes still blurry - it could just be Kuroo he was mistaking for Iwaizumi but he recognised that posture, he recognised the shape of his face as he turned around. 

“Finally decided to get your ass up, huh? Of course you would wake up for food.” 

It was hard to think when his heart was pounding against his chest. Oikawa stupidly raised his hand to rub at his eyes, the laugh which filled the room made his heart stutter in its tracks. He had missed that sound, he missed the presence that made him feel at home no matter where he was, he missed Iwaizumi. There were a thousand things he could possibly say right now, emotions rushing all at once that it felt impossible to label it as one. 

Oikawa almost flinched at Iwaizumi’s touch, guilt immediately spreading through him as he faintly made out the brief look of hurt on his boyfriend’s face. He was concerned, but more than anything he was _here_ 5 days late. Why did he even bother? What did he come here to do? Oikawa couldn’t get the image of what he saw out of his head, he couldn’t ignore the disappointment he felt at the train station or the bitterness which overcame him as he passed the flowers to Kenma instead of his own boyfriend. If he could still call him that. 

“Why are you here?” With every twisted facial expression Oikawa felt the guilt within him skyrocket. 

Iwaizumi brushed it off, raising an eyebrow. “The real question is, why were you drinking your life away on a Wednesday? I thought I told you not to do stupid shit.” _You told me not to call you for stupid shit._

Oikawa almost wanted to question how he knew this but bit his tongue incase anything more left his mouth. He could feel the anger of being stood up without explanation building up within him, he could feel the anger of what he had seen clawing up his veins, he shrugged instead. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a drink any day of the week.” He reiterated, with a tone as light and normal as he could manage. 

He could see that Iwaizumi didn’t fully believe his statement, then again he was sure Kuroo didn’t either. Still, Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and said nothing of it. He pushed Oikawa in the direction of the bathroom. “You reek of everything unpleasant, I refuse to touch you any more than this until you’ve showered.”  

It was awkward, for the first time in what felt like years; the air between them was awkward. It didn’t feel like them, this _wasn’t_ them. Iwaziumi was trying, trying to act normal as though he hadn’t appeared 5 days late at a time where Oikawa had drank for most the night. He should be happy, he should be happy to see him, to be in his presence. Why didn’t he feel happy? 

Oikawa bit his lip, then threw a glance over his shoulder, pout heavy on his lips. “Meeeaaan Iwa-chan! You should have greeted me with kisses the moment you saw me!” _You should have been here all along._

“When you’re fresh of alcohol and sweat, we can start over again.” replied Iwaizumi, he looked a little more relieved but Oikawa could read between his words. Still, the small smile on Iwaizumi’s face caused his heart to calm and chest to warm. He did as he was told. 

 

Oikawa returned to Iwaizumi dishing out food onto their plates, arms much more toned than he remembered seeing the last time they had met up during a break. He looked too good in that apron, veins flexing with the movements of his hands. He was hot, no one could deny that. With his glasses now nestled on his face Oikawa almost wanted to stand and watch him all day, until his stomach growled and reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in 2 days. He looked down at it in betrayal, his presence now outed. 

“I found what looked like cookie cutters.” said Iwaizumi, as Oikawa walked further into the room. The setter realised what he meant as he got closer; a range of different foods laid out neatly on their plates and table, he had used the cookie cutters to make shapes out of pancakes. It was times like these where Oikawa was reminded of the fact that Iwaizumi was actually a decent cook, despite the badly cut pancakes which still somehow made his entire being warm. Why was it that he falling more in love with him? Why had he gone through all this effort, for him?

The guilt was returning in heavy pulses, regret for what he was thinking; how angry he felt. Iwaizumi was his best friend, his boyfriend. The person he had waited to see the most, the person he had stayed up talking to for hours, video called so they could get that illusion of being together, the one person he valued more than his life. 

Oikawa’s chest felt tight, swallowing was difficult. Beneath his anger, his disappointment and sadness he _was_ happy. He was happy Iwaziumi was here in person, in his dorm, speaking to him, cooking for him. He was thrilled to see his stupidly handsome face, to hear that voice directly instead of over the phone. 

The image was still there, lingering in his mind, but Oikawa had always been a little selfish.  

“O-Oi. Why are you crying?” 

Oikawa raised a hand to his cheek, breathing suddenly got easier as a hand enclosed his the other wiping away his tears. “The great Oikawa does not cry” said the setter, through a teary smile. It felt foreign to his face.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, pressing their foreheads together. “Stop crying or you don’t get your milk bread, Trashykawa.” _I love you._

_The image was still there, lingering in his mind._

Oikawa half sniffled and half laughed, “So mean Iwa-chan.” _I... love you too._

 

_~_~_~_

 

The library seemed quieter than usual that day, there were no students being shushed for talking too loud or any books tumbling from high shelves people couldn’t reach. Staring at a book filled with equations he had half memorised was getting to him, and Kuroo couldn’t help but notice these small details. Time had flown by despite Kuroo’s weak grasp on trying to keep track of it, soon enough his mind ran with it; thinking of anything he could dig up. 

He thought back to the first time Kenma came to him for help, since they found each other again, how his eyes were glued to the floor and his feet shuffled in front of him. It took Kuroo a few minutes to realise, he was embarrassed but above all tired and stressed if his hair was anything to go by. Kuroo couldn’t deny the happiness that sparked through him, or his eagerness to take what Kenma had been studying in any attempt to make sense of what it was asking of him. Part of Kuroo hoped that his joy didn’t show outwardly as much as he felt it internally. If they were ever going to get a sense of what normal was between them, he would have to stop getting as excited as he did. Yet they were comfortable, and Kuroo had to fight back the intruding thoughts of what it would have been like to have a best friend. 

The lingering feeling of never being truly whole had stopped eating him alive since they established this comfortable air between them. Kuroo found, he was beginning to feel less like an outsider looking in, with the odd few contributions to fit in, and more like the people he always wanted to be part of. Even so, there was an ache in his heart that has never left. There was still a part of him which said not to get too comfortable. Kuroo ignored it. 

“Apple pie?” 

He looked up at the voice, surprise was probably evident on his face but he managed a small smile regardless. “Roommate.” Kuroo replied, almost sheepishly as he sat up in his seat, he didn’t realise how far he had be slouching down.

“Ah, the pudding head.” 

Kuroo rolled his eyes, “Oikawa doesn’t know how to shut his mouth” he sighed. Iwaizumi chuckled as he took a seat opposite him, and Kuroo found it wasn’t much of a surprise that Iwaizumi knew of Kenma already. 

“I really wish he would sometimes.”  

Kuroo couldn’t decide whether he was joking or if some part of him truly meant it, he brushed it off with a shrug. Iwaizumi was the type to stick up for Oikawa behind his back but yell at him to his face if he ever put himself down. Their relationship was one Kuroo respected but didn’t put the effort into understanding much until it came to his friend. 

Kuroo leaned forward, a lazy smirk tilting his cheeks, “I didn’t expect you of all people to invite me to lunch, did you finally fall for my charms?” 

“You’re beginning to sound like Oikawa.” said Iwaizumi, and whilst Kuroo knew that sounding like Oikawa wasn’t a bad thing (especially to Iwaizumi) he scrunched his face and sat back. 

“I’m wounded.” Iwaizumi laughed.

 

For a short while, they were quiet. Kuroo packed up his belongings and pushed the library books to the side, to his disappointment his drink had long defrosted leaving a watery substance in its place. Kuroo mentally praised himself for not buying Kenma’s drink just yet, and sent a small glance to the bag containing the apple pie from the corner shop. 

He looked back to Iwaizumi, who hadn’t appeared to change much since he had last seen him. Kuroo never thought he would end up friends with him, truthfully speaking Kuroo couldn’t remember _how_ they ended up as friends, but it was nice - the difference between Iwaizumi and Oikawa. It gave him a change of pace. 

Iwaizumi, despite trying to mask it quite well, looked troubled. The cup between his hands surely had something in there yet Iwaizumi twirled it with no fear, until finally he inhaled and looked up. “Do you know if he’s still mad at me?” 

Kuroo didn’t need to think about who ‘he’ was to know he was talking about Oikawa. Oikawa who had been utterly dejected when Iwaizumi hadn’t shown up, Oikawa who had drunk into the night with no explanation as to why only a few days ago. Kuroo couldn’t deny his curiosity as to why Iwaizumi was here instead of with his boyfriend but it made sense now. Why the setter hadn’t come spamming his phone about everything they had done or ‘how handsome Iwa-chan is’. He wasn’t surprised that Iwaizumi was able to decipher that Oikawa was ‘mad’ at him. 

Kuroo sighed, “He’s been pretty bummed, you know. Why didn’t you tell him before he turned up that you couldn’t make it?” 

Iwaizumi’s grip on the cup tightened, Kuroo couldn’t make out the expression on his face. “There was some trouble with Matsukawa...some of our friends had thrown a party so that Hanamaki could get over his girlfriend who he had broken up with. I didn’t get the chance to let him know.” 

Kuroo got the sense there was something more to the story, “Did you tell him that?” 

“Briefly,” said Iwaizumi, finally taking a sip from the cup. 

When it was clear he wasn’t going to continue, Kuroo raised an eyebrow but released the breath he had been quietly containing. These two had the strongest relationship of them all, they had what Kuroo couldn’t manage and now they were all too close to losing it over some silly misunderstanding. Kuroo wasn’t sure if he was growing annoyed at them, or at himself. 

 “Oikawa.” he said, after a few seconds of silence. “Is a complex idiot that _you_ know the best.” 

Iwaizumi blinked, clearly not expecting such an answer. “And because you know him best, you should be the one to sit him down and talk about it.” Kuroo continued, he held their gaze for a few seconds more before pushing his seat back and standing up. 

“He’s happy, you know.” Iwaizumi tilted his head up to meet his words. “He’s happy with you, and he’s happy you’re here.” _So don’t ruin what you have._

“Nice to see you again.” 

With that, Kuroo gave the man a small playful salute with two fingers, picked up his bag and left. 

 

_~_~_~_

 

_There’s an ocean of silence between us, waters drifting us apart, and though I cannot feel it, it’s tearing me apart._

_There’s a ruckus within my soul, bringing feelings I cannot control_

_Oh please, oh please_

_Don’t let sorrow consume me whole_

 

“You look happier.” 

Kenma was beginning to wonder whether or not Akaashi had a thing for making him up three foot in the air. His silence came at the cost of his presence being concealed, that was something they had in common, he supposed. Regardless of the fact, Kenma still sent a small glare towards his friend at his fright, hands grasping the book in his hands the slightest bit tighter. 

Akaashi barely suppressed his snicker as he sat down, a glimmer of smugness spreading across his face. Kenma rolled his eyes, fingers lightly drumming against the hardback cover. Look happier, huh? What was that supposed to mean? Kenma was sure he wore the same neutral if not bored expression he usually wore, he feared to think if reading showed something different on his face. One look at Akaashi granted him his answer.

Generally, he looked generally happier. Kenma wasn’t sure if he should be flattered Akaashi could pick apart a minor thing like that, or if he should feel anxious about being read so easily. His feet shuffled beneath the table, he sucked his cheek. 

 _He would prove it wasn’t a lie._ He had let himself go, for Kuroo, he had let comfort wash over the once soiled air amongst them. Jokes were cracked, teasing and snarky. Empty insults were hurled in a manner that said; this is what it should have been like. For the first time in years, Kenma thought _maybe_ he was having fun. Finding enjoyment in the time they shared together and comfort in the mutual silence. It wasn’t drastic but it gave him the same contented feeling which he gained from games, the satisfaction of knowing he had made an effort to get to where he was. He certainly preferred it to the daunting air inside his lonesome room back in a place that no longer felt like home.

 

“Ah, you’re reading the book I was going to recommend to you.” 

Kenma blinked, clearing his thoughts from his mind as to process what Akaashi had said. He looked down at the book in his grasp, fingers subconsciously brushing the page he was reading beforehand. He hadn’t gotten far, a few pages at most. “Thanks for the spoiler.” Kenma murmured, referring back to the time Akaashi had spoken about it. 

“You never seemed to mind.” said Akaashi, a faint smile now replacing his earlier look of smugness. “It’s a good read, regardless.” 

Kenma hummed, skimming over the epigraph for the book. ‘ _There’s an ocean of silence between us... a ruckus within my soul....don’t let sorrow consume me whole’_ “I suppose so.” Kenma answered, he couldn’t help but wonder what Akaashi was implying that day when he brought up the novel. 

Reading wasn’t Kenma’s thing, and yet he found himself coming by the bookstore every so often, picking out something new, a different recommendation Akaashi would give him. Kenma was almost reluctant at times to visit Akaashi in fear he would get roped into the likes of reading, he couldn’t say he minded much. The weight of a book in his hands made a nice change to that of his game consoles, occasionally.

“I’m surprised Bokuto isn’t with you.” said Kenma, lifting his gaze to his friend. “I saw you two from the window.” 

For a second, Akaashi gave Kenma a look of confusion, knowing there were no windows here where Kenma sat. Kenma kept a neutral gaze as Akaashi came to realise where he must have seen him, he couldn’t deny that he had become a regular at the small corner café at the end of the road.   

“He accompanied me to work then went off to practice.” Akaashi explained, glancing down at his phone briefly. It was only then Kenma noted the small nametag on his chest to signal he indeed worked here and was probably starting soon. 

He thought back to what Kuroo had said, in his rambles about this infamous Bokuto who Kenma had managed to avoid since meeting him, and wondered how Akaashi could go about spending so much time around the man. 

Kenma didn’t miss the looks of adoration in Akaashi’s eyes when he spoke of Bokuto, it was different to the likes of Kuroo’s descriptions. Bokuto was the reason Akaashi went to Fukurodani after all, Kenma bit back a smirk. 

“You like him.” He stated, bluntly, not even bothering to ask about that day with Bokuto. Kenma barely contained his snicker at the way Akaashi’s cheeks slowly tinted pink. 

It was Akaashi who rolled his eyes this time, standing up from his seat and straightening out his clothes. “Don’t be a hypocrite.” 

Kenma’s amusement faded into confusion, Akaashi offered no more than that statement and smiled complacently. “Enjoy the book.” 

Kenma blinked as he walked away.


End file.
